All But Name
by Mirror and Image
Summary: "You will be a Jedi, Anakin. I promise you. In all but name."
1. Chapter 1

**All But Name**

Mirror and Image

Anakin all but leapt out of his Naboo starfighter, adrenaline still coursing through him; all his fear was forgotten as the excitement of it all continued to sweep over him. What an adventure! He wondered if Jedi always had this much _fun_ when they were saving planets, he couldn't wait for the training!

One fighter stopped next to him, and a weathered man stepped out, Ric Olie. "You?" he asked, his voice incredulous. "You were the one that shot down the station?"

Anakin looked up, spinning slightly, high on his adventure. "Yeah!" he affirmed with enthusiasm. "Wasn't it awesome?"

"A kid," Orlie mumbled. "A _kid_ fired the lucky shot... I don't believe it..."

Anakin decided that the man was going to be boring and dashed off, R2-D2 wheeling behind him. He needed to find Qui-Gon and share his exploits, _he_ would be interested, and maybe that snobby guy Obi-Wan would take interest too. People were cheering left and right, the occasional droid being trounced by the Naboo people who were surging forth from... somewhere. Swells of crowds filled the courtyards, there was a lot of shouting and cheering and cursing and pushing. Anakin navigated all through the throngs of legs, caring less about what was happening around him because he was so happy about how he felt on the inside.

Dashing through an enormous marble hallway, he rounded a corner and saw Padme. Yes! She would be interested in his adventure, too. And the snobby Jedi, Obi-Wan was there! Perfect! That meant Qui-Gon was nearby!

"Hey Padme!" he called, putting on an extra burst of speed. R2 whistled brightly and Anakin was heedless of the solemn expression on both of the people.

"Oh, Ani," the queen said. "You're alright!"

"I'm not alright, I'm great!" he said, still giddy and excited. "I just had the best adventure with R2 and it was really exciting and scary and wizard and I think I was the one who was able to turn off all the droids and I learned a lot about how to fly and fight with a Naboo starfighter and it was better than podracing!"

Both Padme and Obi-Wan frowned, but the Jedi put a hand on Padme's shoulder and said softly, "I'll take care him."

"Obi-Wan, are you sure-"

"Yes. I'm fine milady. Don't worry yourself on my account."

Padme looked undecided for a moment, but nodded and walked away.

Anakin suddenly felt put out. "Hey! Doesn't she want to hear my story too?" he demanded.

Obi-Wan put a hand on the boy's shoulder. "I'm certain she does, Anakin, but right now she has a lot of work to do."

"What work? We won! What's _left_ to do?"

"She has to rebuild, Anakin," Obi-Wan said softly. "Naboo was very badly hurt during the invasion, and it's going to take a lot of time to build it back up again." His voice trailed off slightly. The boy hardly noticed, turning back to watch where Padme had disappeared.

"Being a queen must be really hard then," he said.

"Yes, it is," Obi-Wan agreed.

"When will she get any free time? I want to tell her about what happened!"

Obi-Wan rubbed his face. "I'm certain she will find time soon, and I'm more than certain that when she finds it she will come straight to me. Therefore, logically, you will be around to tell the story."

Anakin frowned, taking the time to work out Obi-Wan's unnecessarily complex sentences. "Oh," he said, catching on, "because Mister Qui-Gon will be training me! I get it."

Obi-Wan stopped walking for a moment, Anakin darting ahead before he realized that the man had stopped. When the boy turned he thought he saw a strange look on the Jedi's face but it disappeared too quickly for Anakin to name it; and besides, he started walking again, his face far away. He turned off to a room and Anakin followed.

The nine-year-old hopped onto an enormous bed, bouncing several times before finally sitting on it cross-legged. R2-D2 whistled next to him, anxious to hear Anakin's retelling of the story. Obi-Wan didn't seem excited at all, he just sat in a horseshoe shaped chair and crossed his legs, once again rubbing his face. Anakin pouted. "I haven't even started telling the story yet and you're already bored?" he asked.

The Jedi looked up, his eyes heavy, but he put on a smile and leaned forward, uncrossing his legs so he could use his knees to support his elbows. "No," he said quickly, "I'm not bored. Indeed I fear this will be very interesting, given how you were told to stay hidden."

"I did as I was told!" Anakin protested. "I was hiding in the cockpit and Mister Qui-Gon told me to stay there even though I wanted to help him and Padme and I did stay there! I figured I could help them from there and I started pressing buttons to see what would help Padme."

"You 'started pressing buttons'?"

"Yeah!"

"Randomly?"

"No!"

Obi-Wan raised a tired eyebrow.

"... Well, yes. A little," Anakin admitted, but quickly tried to turn it around. "But not totally randomly. I learned a lot about cockpits when I was working by Watto, I worked a lot of engines and thrusters, and I got really good when I started podracing, so I kinda know the basics of where thrusts and steering and deflectors should be, but I never worked on a Naboo starfighter before. They have buttons in weird places and some of them do every stupid things like-"

"Yes, yes," Obi-Wan said, raising a hand to forestall Anakin from continuing his analysis of Nabooan mechanics. "Continue."

"Well," Anakin said, excitement once more coursing through him. "I accidentally hit the stabilizer buttons and the whole chasse started to shake but I finally found the lasers and I fired at the droids that were attacking Padme because I wanted to protect her."

"I see," Obi-Wan said, rubbing his face again but making an effort to look interested. "What happened next?"

"Well Padme got away so I was able to protect her like I promised, but then all the droids were coming after me and I was firing lasers everywhere and trying to find where the shields were because they're always on the right side of the cockpit and I was still mashing buttons and then the ship took off on it's own!"

Obi-Wan was not the best audience Anakin had ever entertained, but he did look up from rubbing his face again and blinked. "What?" he asked.

"Artoo says one of the buttons I hit was the autopilot, but I never did figure out which button it was. Anyway the ship backed out of the hangar deck and started taking off into space. I told Artoo to override the, uh, override so that I could at least _steer_; once we were out in space I could hear the squadron chatter as they were fighting the droids in space and then suddenly I was there in the thick of it! It was really scary because I couldn't control the fighter but its flight plan was so erratic we didn't take much fire."

"Wait a moment," Obi-Wan said, raising a hand again. "You didn't take a single hit while you were on autopilot?"

Anakin thought back, trying to order the wild memories of his adventure. "No, I don't think so. There was one point where I thought we were going to die, but Artoo was able to turn off the autopilot, and that was when everything got really wizard, because then it was just like when I'm podracing. The fighter was working in my head and I was letting my head do the firing and the steering."

Obi-Wan sat up very straight, his face becoming more alert. "Say that again," he said softly.

"Huh? What part?"

"What was it like to fly an aircraft you've never flown before?"

"Oh, it's just like podracing!" Anakin said, excited that he could explain how it worked. His mother never seemed to understand and that was the only person on Tatooine he ever felt comfortable saying it too. He didn't have the chance yet to talk about it to Qui-Gon, but if Obi-Wan was interested then Qui-Gon _definitely_ would be. "All the parts of the machine like the thrusters and the fuel gauges and the aft engines and the deflector shields and all the nuts and bolts come alive in your head. You don't even have to see the parts to know what they're doing because it's all up here," he pointed to his forehead, "and when that happens instinct does everything else. Your brain tells you what to do and then your body follows through quick as it can. It's the most funnest thing in the world! It was a dream come true 'cause I dreamed that one day I'd leave Tatooine and visit every planet in the galaxy and it was like I was living my dream!"

Obi-Wan frowned, but motioned for Anakin to continue.

"Well," Anakin chattered, "It got a little close for a while. All my button pushing had overheated the blasters and for a while I couldn't fire back at the ships that were firing on me. I did what I do sometimes in podracing, I let the other guy get really close to my draft and lead him up to the big Federation station; I got as close as I could and then jammed the fighter right and the other guy couldn't pull up enough to stop the impact." Anakin paused as a though occurred to him. "Is there a direction like 'right' when you're in space?"

Obi-Wan's mouth tried to grin, a corner flicking up and then down. "That can be explained later. What happened next?"

"Well I got another guy on my tail and I was using the hull of the space station like it was Beggars Canyon. Artoo was mad and told me it wasn't podracing but it really was," R2 whistled in indignation, "and I was doing pretty good, too, but the other guy's lasers finally hit me. I cut the thrusters and tried to slide, but I didn't have the friction like I do at Beggars Canyon and I kept going so I just sort of aimed at this giant opening and once I was in it there _was_ friction and I was able to come to a stop. But there were lots of droids in there and the lasers were still overheated and the engine was off because everything was overheated."

"... What were you feeling?" the Jedi asked, leaning back in his chair as a hand raised to his chin. He looked thoughtful.

Anakin was brought up short. "What do you mean what was I feeling?"

"What emotions were you experiencing during all of this?" he repeated.

The child frowned, taking time to think before answering. "I was excited when I was in control of flying," he said, "I always am because I love that feeling of the machine being in my head; it always makes me feel good and I know I can do anything when I'm like that. I was a little scared when I _didn't_ have control because I knew I couldn't do anything until I _did_ have control and that's why I was pressing all the buttons I could find. I was trying to get control as quick as I could and I was learning as I went so I could do better when I did have control."

"What made you decide to fire in the first place?" Obi-Wan asked. "When you were still planet-side."

That answer was longer in coming, because Anakin wasn't sure he could or should answer that out loud. Would Qui-Gon ask him that question? Feelings were important to a Jedi, Qui-Gon had expressed that when Anakin had gotten in the fight with Greedo. Feeling suddenly a little anxious, Anakin answered. "I wanted to keep my promise."

"Promise?"

Anakin squirmed. "I promised myself I'd protect Padme and Mister Qui-Gon. I knew this wasn't just an adventure, it was a battle, and I didn't want them to..." His voice trailed off, unable to say the words out loud. "You and Mister Qui-Gon were fighting that red and black thing, and Padme was being overrun with the droids, and Mister Qui-Gon said to stay put and I didn't want to go against him but I wanted to do _something_ to help."

Silence stretched between them. Anakin wasn't entirely sure he had done the right thing telling Obi-Wan all that, but he could ask Qui-Gon about it later. The Jedi looked awfully thoughtful, his eyes low and his mouth frowning and his eyebrows pinched together. Anakin squirmed a little, and just when he thought he couldn't stand it anymore Obi-Wan asked another question.

"And when you were in the Federation hangar, surrounded by droids and your ship overheated? What were you feeling then? Scared?"

"No, not scared really. I knew I was in trouble, but I've been in trouble enough to know that being scared won't do anything so I didn't let myself get scared. I just knew I had to keep a cool head and try and figure a way out of it." He looked up, smiling. "Then Artoo was able to fix the overheating _and_ get the blasters unlocked! Then it was just like podracing again, I turned on my shields and fired these torpedo thingies at the droids. My head saw a shadow in this one corridor so I fired on it but I missed, which never happened before, and it blew through a vent duct. Then I was just trying to get out of there; then the whole station exploded!"

Anakin suddenly remembered the radio chatter, the men deducing that he had somehow blown up the station. He remembered wincing, because he wanted to return the ship back to the hangar where Qui-Gon had left him so he wouldn't have to explain the adventure. The rush of victory had overpowered that anxiety, and now he had just spilled his guts to the _snobby_ Jedi. The one that didn't _like_ him. He found himself leaning back a little. "... Am I in trouble?" he asked.

Obi-Wan must not have heard the question; he still looked like he was thinking.

"... Mister Obi-Wan?"

The Jedi glanced up, their eyes meeting. He sighed. "You most certainly _have_ had an adventure," he said lightly, putting a smile back on. "I would never have believed it, but I suppose I have to."

"Huh? Why?"

"Because I am a Jedi, and I have a better understanding of what happened," he said slowly. "When you talk of having the starfighter living in you mind, you are talking of the Force guiding your decisions. I didn't think a connection that deep was possible, and yet it comes so naturally to you it is simply astounding."

Anakin blinked at first, unsure of what Obi-Wan was saying. "Does this... does this mean you like me now?" he asked.

Obi-Wan's face softened slightly, and his smile looked more sincere than the ones he had been giving previously. "I never disliked you," he said, reaching forward a little awkwardly and putting a hand on Anakin's shoulder. "I suppose I just didn't know what to make of you."

"And now you do?" Anakin asked.

Obi-Wan paused a moment, considering his answer very carefully. "Let's say that I can now most certainly see your potential."

He liked him. He _liked_ him! That meant he didn't have to fight with Qui-Gon anymore! "That's great!" he said, energy once more filling him and he lurched to his feet. "Do you think you'll get to help Mister Qui-Gon train me? Would you mind? How does..."

Obi-Wan's face had cracked.

It was the only way Anakin could describe it.

Obi-Wan's face had cracked, the smile was broken, and the eyes didn't look right. Obi-Wan slid off his chair onto his knees, and his free hand went to clasp Anakin's other shoulder. He looked into the child's eyes, his mouth suddenly a thin line.

Anakin, so giddy on his adventure and his excitement, felt his stomach and his feet fall out from under him. The mood of the room had changed, and he couldn't quite understand why. There was a tiny voice in the back of his mind that said he knew, but he firmly denied the knowledge because it wasn't true. He had _promised_.

"Anakin," Obi-Wan said, his voice soft but hurt. "Anakin there's something you need to know."

He shook his head. "No," he said. "No, don't say it. I don't want to hear it!"

"Please, Ana-"

"No! I won't listen to it!" He struggled to cover his ears, to break away from the Jedi but Obi-Wan's grip was firm and unyielding. "I promised!" he cried out. "I _promised!_ And I helped Padme! I-"

"You did everything you could," Obi-Wan affirmed, gently pulling Anakin closer to him, his voice still soft. "You did things I would never have dreamed possible. You were amazing."

"But I didn't do good _enough_!" he shrieked.

"Anakin-"

"I could have done something!"

"Ana-"

"I _should_ have done something!"

"An-"

"I _promised_ he wouldn't-"

"_Anakin!_"

The child startled. He'd never heard Obi-Wan shout like that, never heard him even raise his voice. He almost thought he was going to be hit, he flinched in spite of himself, but Obi-Wan's broken face hadn't changed, nor had his strong grip of his kneeling position. He looked at Anakin with eyes that hurt before they closed and he took a very deep breath.

"A Jedi learns things called sutras," Obi-Wan said slowly. "They are phrases and passages that they study in meditation. You'll learn all of them in time, but one of the sutras is, 'There is no death, there is the Force.'"

Anakin stared, tears leaking out of his eyes.

"Everything dies, Anakin," Obi-Wan said slowly, his voice quiet but now rough. "From plants to people to planets to stars. Everything dies - but death is what we beings call it. Our bodies can merely no longer contain us, for under this skin we are all luminous beings. You'll see that, too, with training. When a body can no longer contain the being, the being rejoins the Force that exists everywhere. It..." Obi-Wan's voice cracked and he finally broke eye contact, his head dipping down. Anakin could see his shoulders shaking. When he looked up, though, his face and his eyes were still dry. "It is a time for celebration," he said, his mouth trying to smile. "Qui-Gon is no longer limited by the flesh and blood his being was trapped in; he is in the Force."

Anakin blinked, trying to stop the tears. "So you're happy?" he asked, his voice as cracked and rough as Obi-Wan's. "You're happy that he's dead?"

Obi-Wan's head dropped down again, unable to face the question.

Anakin hugged him.

Obi-Wan stiffened at first, shocked at the gesture, but Anakin just plain didn't care anymore, and he buried his head in Obi-Wan's shoulder and cried for all his worth.

It wasn't long before Obi-Wan followed suit.

* * *

Anakin was eavesdropping. He knew it wasn't a good thing to do and his mother often scolded him on it. But what he was listening to was about _him_, so of course he would listen. This conversation could possibly determine his future. Whether or not he'd be a Jedi.

The last day had been so chaotic that he hadn't really thought about what was going to happen to him. He'd blown up the Trade Federation control ship of all the droids and everything since then had been a whirl. Padme was going from meeting to meeting to assess the damage, determine what was necessary to rebuild, what it would cost, where the funds would come from, to say nothing of all the preparation for the funerals and mourning for those that had been lost. Anakin could swear sometimes that he couldn't turn a corner without finding someone who was desperately trying to contain the sorrow of losing someone close to them.

The feelings brought up his own feelings of sorrow at leaving his mother behind. She had been his whole world for as long as he could remember and now that he was on his own, he felt lost, directionless. Padme was there for him, but she was so incredibly busy that Anakin didn't want to be a bother. He had been welcome at dinner, and she did give him some attention during that time, but it was often interrupted as someone _else_ came in with a new damage report and assessment of how things were. The fact that she paid any attention to him, she a queen and he a former slave, warmed a large part of his heart and he clung to that.

But Padme wasn't his mother, nor would she ever be. She was a good friend. One he cherished. Yet where he was lost and directionless, she had destination and purpose. She was responsible for her entire planet and Anakin didn't really want to burden her with his relatively small problem by comparison. She still seemed to notice, and always gave a warm smile that he appreciated.

Especially when his ache of loss was particularly strong.

Anakin tried to remind himself that at least his mother was alive and safe on Tatooine. Not happy, and still a slave, but _alive_. Unlike Mister Qui-Gon. And that was another loss that Anakin mourned. Qui-Gon had saved him. Had tried to save his mother as well, though that didn't work. Qui-Gon was someone Anakin looked to like a father because Qui-Gon looked at Anakin as a person, not a slave, and believed in him like a parent was supposed to. Qui-Gon had fought for him, wanted him to become a Jedi and was willing to go against the Council to do so.

That's what a parent was supposed to do, right? And Qui-Gon would train Anakin and be like a father to him.

But Qui-Gon was gone. And the funeral would be the next day.

Anakin had never been to a funeral before. For all that slaves weren't the best-treated beings in the galaxy, most owners understood that the best way to get work out of a slave was to keep them healthy. Educated was a different story, but most slaves, at least where Anakin had lived, were not deprived of food or water or medical aid. Not unless there was some sort of confrontation and a slave needed a "lesson". But nothing was ever permanently damaged because then the property would be no good. So Anakin had never had go to a funeral. Qui-Gon would be the first.

And it wasn't even a normal funeral, but a Jedi funeral.

On the one hand, Anakin felt honored that he'd even be there. Jedi were so mysterious and to be allowed into what would probably be a private ceremony under normal circumstances, was the chance of a lifetime, much like seeing so much of the Temple was.

But it _shouldn't_ have been _Qui-Gon_'s funeral. Without Qui-Gon, Anakin didn't have a support.

... No, that wasn't true. But Anakin didn't like admitting that.

Ever since Qui-Gon's apprentice, Obi-Wan, had sat down and asked him what had happened to him up in space, Anakin had noticed a change. Anakin's first impression of the apprentice was that he was friendly enough, just kinda... snobby. He acted all polite and proper and was very much the type of guy that he imagined his mother wanted him to be, but there was a wall around him. This Obi-Wan person kept people at a distance and Anakin would have thought him aloof were it not the obvious care and devotion to Qui-Gon. Those two acted like father and son, which was how Anakin knew that when he became Qui-Gon's apprentice that he'd be like Qui-Gon's son. That, in a way, made Obi-Wan kinda like a brother.

An annoying brother who couldn't be bothered with younger siblings.

This, at least, Anakin was familiar with as several of his friends had older siblings who gave the cold shoulder to the younger siblings in public. But in private they were just as warm and affectionate as a sibling was _supposed_ to be. So Anakin assumed that, with time, he and Obi-Wan would have a similar relationship.

But that was all assuming Qui-Gon lived.

He hadn't.

And even though Anakin _knew_ Obi-Wan was grieving just as badly as anyone else he came across, Obi-Wan made time to sit with Anakin. Made time to talk to him about Jedi beliefs and practices and start instructing him in some very basic Force stuff. Had spent most of the _day_ talking about those things with him. All the things Qui-Gon did before the Council had forbidden him to do so on the way to Naboo.

The previous night, Anakin had just gone forward and hugged Obi-Wan, because he _knew_ Obi-Wan was holding that grief inside and his mother _always_ said that holding things in was _bad_ and that it hurt you worse than just letting it out, in the long run. That and Anakin was grieving. He'd just learned that Qui-Gon was dead and that meant he had _no one_ because his mother was so far away and the _one_ person who stuck up for him was now dead. Anakin just wanted to be held, because when someone cried and was sad, all they wanted was to be held.

Obi-Wan hadn't done anything at first, but as Anakin cried out the grief they _both_ were feeling, he'd started to cry. After that they were both sobbing and holding onto each other for dear life.

That was when Anakin decided he liked Obi-Wan, because Obi-Wan clearly didn't like letting people past the wall he put around himself, but he'd let Anakin in. It meant that he acknowledged that they were family now, since their father, Qui-Gon, was dead.

It was why he was eavesdropping. The Jedi Council had arrived that morning. Obi-Wan had given a weak smile to Anakin after lunch and excused himself, saying that he needed to give his report.

Anakin was fine with that. Padme was getting and giving reports left and right. But it had also meant that there was going to be discussion of what to do with him. Obi-Wan had already promised that he'd train him and Anakin could already sense what Obi-Wan called a bond. It was just a quiet tingle in the back of his head, but it was there. It would grow with time, Obi-Wan had explained, and Anakin was curiously prodding at it from time to time the same way he tinkered with droids and machinery.

It was during one of these curious pokes that Anakin had suddenly felt a strong need to find Obi-Wan. Anakin had guessed that it was the Force telling him to go seek out his new brother, and since Obi-Wan always said to trust the Force, he had figured it was a good idea to get moving.

When he'd run across Padme, he decided she might have a better idea of what was going on. She had smiled at him warmly, ruffled his hair, and said that the Council had adjourned their meeting some time ago and that Obi-Wan had just been called to meet with Master Yoda.

Anakin didn't care for the long-eared frog. Yoda had said some unpleasant things about Anakin and clearly didn't like the idea of Anakin being trained. And, though Obi-Wan was being very kind in teaching him and clearly was set on training him, Anakin knew that meant fighting Yoda, whom Anakin had never seen Obi-Wan conflict with.

"Ani, I'm sure it will be fine," Padme had tried to reassure him. "With everything you've been able to do, I have no doubt that they will train you."

But something inside Anakin's gut had been twisting. "Where are they?" he'd asked. He was anxious to find out what was going to happen to him and he had felt he _needed_ to be there.

So Padme had offered her hand and walked with him.

The door had been slightly ajar and Anakin had watched as the small troll had paced back and forth with Obi-Wan kneeling in front of him respectfully.

Padme had pulled lightly on his hand, clearly not liking the idea of eavesdropping and wanting to go somewhere else to wait, but Anakin had just sat down, watched, and listened. And Padme did too, after her jaw dropped.

"Allow it, I will not. Allow it, I will not!" Yoda said, his voice firm as he turned to start another round of pacing. "The boy's future, darkness clouds. Too old, too old he is, as your master I told. Agree I do in making you a Knight, but agree with training that boy, I do _not_."

Obi-Wan lifted his head to face the tiny master. "It was Master Qui-Gon's last wish. I have spoken with him, Master Yoda. That boy's future may be clouded, but he himself is _not_. Yes, he bears attachments, but he has an incredible capacity to learn. Just today alone-"

"Teach him, you should _not_ have," Yoda interrupted. "Told you and your master both I did, not to train him."

Obi-Wan dipped his head at the reprimand before looking to the master again. "You ordered my master to. You gave no such command to me."

Yoda chuckled. "Such insolence. Taught you well, Qui-Gon has."

Obi-Wan dipped his head again, but Anakin just _knew_ that had more to do with grief than the gentle chiding.

"I _promised_ him, Master Yoda. I will train Anakin - with or without your approval. If you don't see that he will be an excellent Jedi as I do, then consider that the Sith are still out there, and if they get a hold of him-"

"Understand this I _do_," Yoda was again firm. "But thinking clearly you are _not_."

"Master, I-"

"No," Yoda turned again in his pacing, his stick tapping fiercely against the floor. "Speaking not from your mind, but from your heart. Speak from your _own_ attachments, you do. Your attachment to Qui-Gon. Wounded you deeply it did, when the Force Qui-Gon joined. Wounded you, Qui-Gon did, when cast aside you were so the boy could be trained."

Anakin sucked in a breath at that. He hadn't thought about that conversation from Obi-Wan's perspective and that _hurt_; because as much as Anakin wanted to be a Jedi, he'd simply thought that Qui-Gon was saying that Obi-Wan was ready. He didn't even realize that it was like when a neighbor down the street remarried and the daughter had felt she was second to the new woman of the house. Anakin understood part of that, especially since he was always cast aside as a Podracer because he was Human and so young.

A small seed of doubt sprung in his mind. Maybe all he was, was a promise to Qui-Gon. Maybe Obi-Wan didn't care about him at all. Anakin shook his head. If he were just a burden, then Obi-Wan wouldn't have cried with him. He wouldn't be making such an effort.

Right?

Obi-Wan bowed his head again, but raised it immediately. "Master Yoda. I admit that I mourn. As are you and anyone else who knew my Master. But I do not speak from simple obligation. Have you even spoken to Anakin? Asked him about what he was able to do in an unknown starship in the middle of a _battle_? He's a brilliant boy with a bright spark of potential. He won't just be a good Jedi. He'll be an _excellent_ Jedi; a star in our Order. I won't deny the clouding of his future, but surely you can see that his future isn't _just_ uncertainty? He will be able to do things that no one else will _because_ he hasn't grown up the same way as the rest of us. He already has such a broad understanding of things coming from the Light because of his mother and-"

Yoda slammed his stick to the ground, silencing Obi-Wan.

For Anakin, a part of his heart was warming. Obi-Wan wasn't the powerful you-will-listen-to-me defender that Qui-Gon was. But Obi-Wan _was_ fighting for Anakin. And that was... nice.

Padme squeezed his shoulder.

"Believe this, I do not. I do not." Yoda heaved a great sigh. "Not only attachment to Qui-Gon clouds your mind, but attachment to this boy."

Obi-Wan didn't look down again. He merely narrowed his eyes the tiniest amount and said, "His name is Anakin, Master Yoda."

"Deep attachment. Attachment you realize not."

"I do not speak from attachment, Master. Merely common sense."

Yoda shook his head. "As of now, a proud Knight in our Order you are. But if this boy you train, a Jedi you will not be."

Padme gasped.

Obi-Wan looked stricken.

Anakin's jaw dropped. He didn't quite understand it, but that sounded like one of the ultimatums his mother would give him if he were misbehaving on a grand scale.

"Master Yoda..." Obi-Wan's voice cracked. He bowed his head to compose himself, before looking up again. "You are asking me to chose between my Master and the Jedi."

"If think, this makes you, then yes." Yoda reached forward, putting a clawed hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder. "Wish this, I do not. A good Jedi, you have always been. One day, a fine master you will be. To his mother, the boy will return. Check on him, from time to time, a Jedi will, so that find him, the Sith will not."

There was silence.

Anakin didn't like this. He loved the idea of seeing his mother again, but Watto would take him back as a slave in an instant. And Qui-Gon _said_ he'd be a Jedi. He was being rejected after _all_ the hard work he'd done to get to this point.

Obi-Wan shook his head. "No, Master Yoda. Anakin will stay by my side," he said quietly. "Please excuse me, I must see to my Padawan."

"If to that boy you go, then to Coruscant, you will not."

"I understand. I will see you at the funeral tomorrow. Then I shall wish you a safe journey."

Anakin scrambled back as Obi-Wan headed toward them. Obi-Wan came out, rubbed his eyes, but when he spotted the two eavesdroppers, he gave a weak smile. Reaching down, he lifted Anakin into his arms. "Come, Padawan. We have some meditation to do." He turned and bowed to Padme. "If you'll excuse us, milady."

Padme gave a nod, her face as composed as her voice, as she slipped into her queen method of speech. "I understand, Knight Kenobi. If you are available, I wish to speak with you and Anakin at a more private dinner this evening."

"As you wish." He bowed again and started to walk purposefully down the hall. Anakin was still trying to grasp everything that had just happened. It had gone by so fast he wasn't even sure he had heard everything.

"Mister Obi-Wan?" Anakin asked.

"You can just call me Obi-Wan."

"Obi-Wan? Does this mean I won't be a Jedi?"

The arms around him tightened. "You _will_ be a Jedi, Anakin. I promise you. In all but name."

**

* * *

Author's Notes**: Well, here's a new idea we're working on. This one is a cool idea, but getting it down on keyboard seems to be pretty difficult. Of course, this isn't the first Obi-trains-Ani-outside-the-Temple fic on ff . net, but as is comon fo rus, we're taking a traditional idea and doing it our way.


	2. Chapter 2

**Part Two**

Padme walked arm-in-arm with Boss Rugor Nass. They had been through a day of celebrations and parades as the Human Nabooans welcomed the Gungans into Theed and it was _good_ to see everyone happy. It seemed like ever since the Trade Federation had been trounced she'd been receiving nothing but a steady stream of bad news as just assessing _Theed_'s damage from the occupation mounted with more and more bad reports. Thus, it did Padme's heart well to see people able to revel in freedom once more, even with so much more work to do.

But the time for celebration was shifting. The sun was starting to set, so she and Nass were slowly leading the way along the Solleu River's bank toward the Funeral Temple. This funeral was for Qui-Gon Jinn and everyone agreed to wait for the Jedi High Council to arrive. It had given many people time to organize and sort through things, and this funeral would be for everyone who had died, not just the Jedi Master who gave his life to free her people.

"Mesa so sorry dis bombad Jedi, hesa dead," Nass said quietly. "Hesa good _Hisen_. Hesa no good at backin' down. Me likin' such strengthen."

"I agree," Padme replied, giving a small, sad smile. "He didn't back down from me either, but in the end, he still listened, even if he didn't agree."

Nass nodded, patting her arm with a gentleness belied by his size. She'd gotten to like him over the past few days. He was very bossy and willful, but if he liked you, he was wonderful to work with. The talks and meetings they'd already had on rebuilding were starting to get things going. Her gentle compromises and his willful passion at working together made anyone they would sit with eager to get started. He trusted her people because he trusted her and she was very grateful. It made things much smoother.

But for all that things were finally beginning on a large scale, it was the more personal scale that made her heart ache.

She glanced ahead of her, where, as per Nabooan tradition, the most bereaved of Qui-Gon's "family" led the way: Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker. When they had shown up at dinner the previous night, Padme outlined everything she'd had her handmaidens look up in regard to guardianship of children given to the Jedi and the customs of adoption here on Naboo. It was to their favor that Obi-Wan had been a legal adult for many years, and from everything they could dig up, any court would have no issues with Obi-Wan becoming Anakin's legal guardian. The problems seemed to lay in the fact that Anakin's mother had given up her parental rights to the Jedi (as was tradition when a parent gave a child to the Order) and there had never been an instance where a child was then rejected from training. (Obi-Wan explained that if a child never became a Knight, there were other areas the child could work and still be a Jedi, such as the AgriCorps. Anakin had fumed at that, demanding why he hadn't even been given that as an option.)

It had been a long night of legal rigmarole, which Obi-Wan had quietly thanked her for when he carried a sleeping Anakin away when they were finally done. Padme's handmaidens had already started contacting Nabooan courts to start the paperwork for Obi-Wan to become Anakin's legal guardian. It would be a long process, and it would not be easy. Naboo, as a whole, frowned on making children have a legal guardian. Since it was a peaceful planet with nomadic histories, there was a firm belief that children would be taken care of by the clan, usually through adoption. If a parent were unable, then an aunt, uncle, grandparent, cousin or some other family member would take the child in. If the child were somehow orphaned, then another family would adopt. Obi-Wan had quietly refused adoption and when Anakin demanded why, the young Jedi simply said that he didn't want to try and replace Shmi. Anakin had accepted the answer, but Padme didn't. After Anakin had fallen asleep, Obi-Wan had admitted (after much badgering) that Jedi didn't have families because it was an attachment that could be used against them. Padme had internally scowled horribly at that, but did as he wished. She could revisit the issue later, when Obi-Wan wasn't suffering from such upheaval in his life.

Now the young Knight and his Padawan were walking hand in hand toward the funeral pyre of the only father figure either of them had ever known.

Padme so wished she could do something for them.

"You tellin' me ifen dey needin' any help," Nass nodded in their direction.

Padme turned and smiled. "I will. Knight Kenobi is working to become Anakin's legal guardian. I think he's too intimidated by adoption."

Nass nodded. "Hesa becomin' a parent. Parentin' isa bombad scary." Nass turned with a wide smile. "You needin' me givin' advice to da fraidy frog?"

"No," Padme chuckled. "I think that 'fraidy frog' needs to figure a few things out himself."

The Gungan gave his own quiet chuckle (quite remarkable given his usual guffaws). "You understandin' teachin' the Gungan way!"

A tall Quermian Jedi stepped forward from the other Jedi that were walking around them. Padme recognized the height as Master Yarael Poof, one of the Council members that had rushed here from Coruscant after hearing the news of Qui-Gon's death.

"Padawan Kenobi," Master Yarael said quietly, "might I have a word with you?"

Obi-Wan nodded. "Of course. How may I help you?"

The High Council member glanced down at Anakin. "I was hoping we might speak privately."

"Anything you have to say can be said in front of my Padawan."

"And Obi-Wan's a Knight," Anakin added. "That Yoda-guy-"

"_Master_ Yoda," Obi-Wan corrected quietly.

"That _Master_ Yoda-guy said so himself. He's a _Knight_ and you're just calling him a _Padawan_. That's _my_ title now, right?"

The Quermian Jedi nodded, his small head and long neck looking more like a spindle with a finiel. "You are correct. I am used to addressing him as a Padawan, forgive the misnomer."

Anakin nodded.

"Now," Yarael said, waving his hand in front of the child. "You will let me speak with Padawan Kenobi privately."

Padme frowned horribly.

Anakin shook his head stubbornly. "No I won't. Obi-Wan said anything you had to say you could say in front of me and _stop_ calling him Padawan! He's a Knight!"

Yarael smiled and waved his hand again. "You _will_ let me speak with him privately."

Obi-Wan pulled Anakin behind him even as the boy continued to protest.

"I dislike that you are trying to send Anakin away, and I suggest that you please stop or you'll not have me to converse with," Obi-Wan said in low, calm, but very firm tones; it was an ultimatum thoughtfully and carefully given, and Padme was reminded that Jedi often participated in negotiations, and it appeared that the young Jedi had some skill.

"So it is true, then," Yarael said, his eyes looking down at Obi-Wan. "You are leaving the Order for this boy."

"I'm not a boy I'm a Padawan!"

"And a Padawan's place at this moment is to be quiet and to observe," Obi-Wan said softly, his eyes not leaving Yarael's, so high above his full height. To the tall Jedi he said, "I cannot in good conscience say that I am 'leaving' the Order. Rather, I prefer to believe that I am carrying out its directive merely in an unorthodox fashion."

Yarael's small head swung back and forth in negation slightly, his face etched in disappointment. Padme had expected this, on some level; she knew that Obi-Wan was sacrificing a great deal for Ani and that the other Jedi would disapprove. She turned slightly, trying not to be obvious as she eavesdropped for a second time - and this time without Ani to provoke her. She threw a glance at Boss Nass and saw that he too was listening with some interest, but other things were quickly taking his short attention and it was not long before he wandered off.

Yarael spoke again. "Padawan Kenobi, the Council has been anticipating your knighthood for some time. Your talent to cast aside negative emotions even in the most dire of circumstances is remarkable and you have exceptional skills in so many areas; you have also - in spite of Qui-Gon - been a strict adherent to the Code. You have the potential to be the greatest of Knights, to even be a member of the High Council. You can serve the Force with the Jedi as you cannot if you willingly throw it all aside to train this boy. You yourself saw your own potential when you fought to even become a Padawan. I cannot understand why you are renouncing that which defines you."

"And that is why you cannot understand," Obi-Wan said in soft tones. "Master Poof, you seem to think I have somehow changed. I have not. My belief in the Code has not dimmed or faltered; in point of fact I have not held it in higher regard. One of the functions of a Jedi is to pass on what he or she has learned; to train the future generations with the wisdom gained from experience. That is what I am doing. Consider, Master Poof, all the Initiates currently in the Temple. Partially trained by Yoda, they know the basic techniques of the Force. Can any of them, _any_ of them, resist one of _your_ compulsions the way young Anakin has just done? And he without training?"

"Wait, wait," Ani said, piping up. "Does that mean I did something impressive?"

Obi-Wan at last ripped his gaze away from the tall Jedi Master and looked down to Ani. "Your talent was never in question," he said softly, his voice perhaps still neutral because of the conversation he was having with Yarael. Padme saw Ani swell in pride out of the corner of her eye and smiled slightly herself. He was such a cute boy.

Turning back to Yarael, Obi-Wan said, simply, "How can he not be trained? All of us can see his potential; all of us can also see the uncertainty of his future. In light of that, perhaps the question instead is why we are _not_ training him, guiding and molding and helping him turn away from that very uncertainty?"

"I will not play a war of words with you, Padawan Kenobi," Yarael said, his small head lifting so that he looked even further down to Obi-Wan. "Qui-Gon often battled over semantics when he did something he knew the Council would not be happy with. It only caused headaches for all involved, and it is a shame that you, like your Master, lower yourself to such tactics."

Padme spun around, _furious._ She couldn't believe that a _Jedi_ was insulting Qui-Gon! _At Qui-Gon's funeral!_ She would never have thought, _never_, that a Jedi could be so cold! Obi-Wan's face had gone utterly white, and Anakin was already protesting, his voice rising and drawing attention of other mourners. Padme marched directly in front of Obi-Wan, placing herself in front of the two grieving parties and ready to start a "war of semantics" all her own.

She didn't have to, however. Nass, whom Padme had thought had wandered off, was suddenly giving a great laugh and placing a massive hand on Yarael's thin shoulders.

"So!" he said expansively. "Yousa Jedi? Me no believin' it til me seein' it. Jedi, deysa all frail like you? You lookin' like mesa break you in two with one hand. Now, _Hisen_, deysa look frail, but deysa got spirit! Gungan spirit! Come, show me what yousa got."

Padme moved very quickly, ushering Obi-Wan and Anakin away before the Jedi could perform some kind of mind trick on Nass and seek them out again. The circular atrium was small, and many other Jedi filled the space as ministers of the Funeral Temple prepared Qui-Gon's body for cremation. The stone pedestal already held the Jedi's body, his face serene in sleep, his hand clasped together over his abdomen, hiding the mortal wound that he had suffered. More wood was added to the pile, evergreen firs that filled the atrium with a sweet scent that the Naboo believed lead the people back to the planet from whence they came. Senator - no, Supreme Chancellor Palpatine joined the three, his eyes questioning what had happened.

Ani looked up to Padme, still upset. "It's my fault isn't it?" he asked, pleading. "It was 'cause of me that everyone's fighting-"

"_No_," Padme and Obi-Wan said at the exact same time. Padme followed up, "He wasn't there, he doesn't know what happened, so he has no right to make that kind of judgment on Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon, or you."

Obi-Wan, too, added his own supplication. "My Master was strongly aligned with the Living Force, his mind was always filled with the here and now. And because he followed what he felt, he often fell into conflict with the Council."

"What's happened?" Palpatine asked.

"Nothing," Obi-Wan said quickly, his face closed off. "There was a simple disagreement. It is a private matter and hardly worthy of your concern, Chancellor."

Palpatine frowned, his face worried, and he glanced to Padme who shook her head. She would not break Obi-Wan's trust. Nass rejoined them, smiling broadly at his accomplishment, Jar Jar at his side. Together, the six of them stood closest to the pyre. Nass positioned himself next to Obi-Wan and Anakin, looking pointedly at the Jedi and openly broadcasting that he was guarding the two. Padme took Obi-Wan's other side, wishing to do the same. The ministers left discretely and as one all the Jedi lifted their hoods.

A Jedi funeral had no words. There was no need of them because all thoughts and feelings were sent to the Force, the place where the deceased now resided, and the direct communication made words unnecessary. Naboo, _Padme_, however, always believed that words were very important. Obi-Wan held the torch, but her hand shot out quickly, pausing his. He looked at her in askance, but she stepped forward, looking at the fallen Jedi.

"You saved my planet," she said to the respected Qui-Gon Jinn. "You saved my people. You saved me. I owe you more than I can offer to repay; but I will do everything in my power to honor you." She turned to Obi-Wan, looking him in the eye. "Everything in my power," she repeated.

Stepping back, Nass picked up on her precedent and stepped forward. "Mesa didn't know you well, but yousa Gungan in spirit. Mesa proud to have met you."

Chancellor Palpatine stepped forward, "Whatever others thought of you," he said, eyeing the Jedi in a quick glance, "Know that all of Naboo is grateful to you. I will fight to see the Trade Federation brought to justice for your murder." He stepped back.

Anakin stepped forward next. "Mister Qui-Gon," he said softly, a little unsure of himself. "I'll work really hard to be what you wanted me to be."

At last, Obi-Wan stepped forward, torch in his hand, hood hiding his face. His back was unnaturally straight, and he stood over Qui-Gon for a long, long time.

"... Master... I..."

Padme's heart broke, and her eyes suddenly filled with tears. She blinked rapidly.

The moment hung in the air, Obi-Wan seemingly unable to break free of it, until little Ani stepped forward again. He looked up to his knew master and put a hand on the torch. Padme could see Obi-Wan's head tilt to look at the boy and, together, they lit the pyre and stepped back. Below them, in the other chambers, other pyres were lit, as were the public pyres in the squares of Theed. The sun set, casting the sky in blues and lavenders; one of the moons rose up in the sky; the sound of the fire and the falls of the Solleu river melded in sad chorus; and the scent of the fir needles filled the air. Padme watched the fire, determined to give Obi-Wan and Ani at least that much privacy as her mind started to work out what else she could do to help her two new refugees.

* * *

It was full dark when the ceremony ended. Insects were chirping and buzzing in the cool night air, offering their own songs about life and its cycle. The Naboo council left first, Nass and Jar Jar soon after. The Jedi, too, left after bowing one by one to the cooling embers. Padme still stayed, waiting for her two charges. Palpatine, too, lingered, pulling her aside as Obi-Wan and Anakin still communed with the pyre.

"I seem to have missed some event I was unaware of," he said. "Why are they not leaving with the Jedi? I heard the boy was to be trained. He saved Naboo, did he not? I was looking forward to watching his progress, offer him an ear now that I have permanent residence on Coruscant."

Padme hesitated; it was a private matter and she did not wish to speak of it without permission, but Palpatine was one of her teachers and always offered excellent council. "They will be staying on Naboo for a time," she said slowly, hoping that would be enough.

Palpatine's eyes narrowed, she could see the thoughts spinning back and forth in his mind. "I see," he said slowly, his eyes flicking to the two. "And that young Jedi? He will be training the boy?"

"Yes."

"I see," he said, rubbing his chin. "I see. Most unfortunate. I have never thought... but there is little I can do about it I suppose." He shook his head slightly, a sad grin on his face as he took Padme's hands in his. "I'm leaving with the Jedi to Coruscant. Now that the turmoil has passed and the mourning can begin, it would appear I have many responsibilities to uphold. I will, however, be visiting between sessions. Those two have my heartfelt admiration, and if there's anything I can do, make sure they know it."

Padme nodded. "I will. Thank you."

And that left the three of them.

Anakin was tired and fighting it bravely, but he leaned much too heavily on Obi-Wan's leg. The Jedi - former Jedi, Padme corrected, was still staring at the embers and ash. Padme put a gentle hand on his arm. He blinked, slightly startled, and turned to look at her. She smiled gently in the dim light.

"... 'm cold," Ani mumbled, pressing his face into Obi-Wan's hip. The former Jedi froze slightly, Padme saw uncertainty flood his face until he schooled himself; he shrugged off his cloak and wrapped it around the boy's shoulders. Anakin snuggled into it before wrapping his arms around Obi-Wan's neck, intent of being carried. Obi-Wan froze again, but complied and picked the boy up.

"You don't need to look so scared all the time," Padme said softly. "You're good with children."

Obi-Wan said nothing at first; he always preferred to think on his reply before offering it. "I've never been with children before, not really. I... don't know what to do."

"You're doing fine," Padme assured. "No parent knows what to do when they first have children. My parents never knew what to do with _me_ and I'm not the oldest." She hesitated, but thought he needed to hear it and added: "I'm sure even Qui-Gon was lost on what to do with his first Padawan, or even you."

Obi-Wan's carefully blank face started to slip but he was able to hold onto it. "The relationship between Master and Padawan... it is not that of a parent and child. That is attachment."

Though Padme was the first to admit that she did not know much of Jedi teachings and traditions, she did feel that this needed to be said. "Did Qui-Gon teach you? Mold and shape you? Did he look after you when you were sick or injured? Did he put his hand on your forehead when you had a fever? Did he make sure you learned from your mistakes? Did he counsel you on what a right or wrong decision was? Did he let you grow?

"These are the things a parent does, and though I know little of how Jedi are raised I watched the two of you enough to know that he was as much as your parent as you will be to Anakin."

"Your Majesty, please," he said softly, turning away. Padme had risked the push, and now she had pushed too far.

"I'm sorry," she said sincerely. "I don't mean to hurt you further, I know that this is a difficult time for you."

They walked the dark path in silence, insects still singing their songs with the omnipresent sound of the falls. Padme once more was cycling through the things she could do for them, trying to see what more she could offer. When they exited to the Main Boulevard, the wide expanse still filled with other pyres, other souls rejoining Naboo soil in mass exodus, Obi-Wan suddenly came to an abrupt halt. Padme paused, looking over to him, trying to discern the reason for his halt. "So many people..." he whispered.

"Obi-Wan?" she asked.

He turned to her. "Your Majesty," he said in complete formality. "You have gone out of your way to show me hospitality in the last two days in spite of all the things you no doubt have to do. It would be rude of me to ask more of you. I... we... I will find employment tomorrow. And lodgings. We will not trouble you further."

Padme blinked, not completely certain she was hearing correctly.

"Please, Knight Kenobi, I am at your disposal," she replied, mimicking his formality. "Were it not for you and young Anakin, my people would still be suffering. My people are with me in wishing to do what we can to repay you for all you've done for us."

"A Jedi does not do things to see recompense," Obi-Wan replied quietly, his eyes still scanning the number of pyres. "We do things because they are the right thing to do. It was the right thing to do for my master and I to face that Sith creature. It was the right thing to do for you to seek out and outwit Nute Gunray. It is the right thing to do for me to train Anakin." Padme wasn't sure, but she thought she saw Obi-Wan squeeze little Ani closer for a brief moment. "We do because no one else can. There is no need for prizes or payment."

Padme gave a sad smile. "Such selflessness. Then do not consider this compensation for work so desperately needed. Consider this a gift from a grateful people."

Obi-Wan shook his head again. "A Jedi is self-sufficient. Left alone anywhere in the galaxy, a Jedi can continue to do what one must. I now find myself in such a position. I will find work and lodgings tomorrow, if you will look after Anakin for me."

"But you are not alone," Padme replied, every inch of royalty in her voice. "You are not isolated on an empty world left to fend for yourself. You may not have your Order behind you, but you have _not_ been left alone. Merely, instead of going to your Order for aide and assistance, you may now come to me and the people of Naboo."

"Your offer is greatly appreciated," he bowed to her. "But Anakin and I must find our own way."

He slowly descended the stairs, Anakin still asleep in his arms.

Padme watched the lone man navigate the pyres still smoldering, seemingly a single shadow under the moonlight. "Do not isolate yourself as some punishment you feel you need for your master's death," she said. "We all need help. It is not a weakness to ask for it, but a strength."

Obi-Wan paused, his head tilted back slightly. But after a moment he kept on walking alone.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** Er, wow, over thirty reviews for the first chapter! So many people have expressed such high expectations... We have no idea if this is going to live up to them or not (most likely not...?).

This fic is done and written, a hundred seventy-something pages, eighteen parts (including epilogue), and all we can say is thank GAWD it's over. The idea of this fic has been in our heads almost as long as Simple Steps was, but alas this fic suffered - perennially - from a lack on inspiration and drive. We were constantly dragging our feet writing it, one scene could sometimes take over a week to write and instead of being excited at getting the keyboard we would moan with dread that it was so-and-so's turn to write. There is a consistent lack of quality in this fic, especially in later chapters, especially compared to Simple Steps.

It hurt so much writing it that we actually cut this fic short. In the original design, there was an Obi-Wan half and an Anakin half. After spending six months (! That's inexcusable!) struggling to deal with Obi-Wan's mourning and moping, the second half was supposed to be Anakin in his teen years as he discovers girls, gets bitter over the Jedi, and rebels against the galaxy at large. We saw that and started to feel physically ill, and so this fic stops a little over a year after it starts, covering how Obi-Wan tries to adjust to life outside the Order.

In this, at least, we had some fun. Not being particularly rich ourselves, we were able to nod to certain worries and concerns and fights over money that I don't think are EVER written about anywhere. Problems aside it was fun writing about, er, some of the things that will happen.

In the end, we leave it up to you all, the readers, to decide if this fic is good or not. We drop this second chapter in the break we're taking from Small Steps and let us know what you think.

Poor Obi-Wan... he'll need much hugging over the course of this fic. Padme will show up intermittently throughout the course of the plot, and Anakin, well; he'll be Anakin. Oh the trouble he gets into...

We tried hard to make sure the Jedi aren't coming across as cruel or mean. It's different points of view and not understanding what Obi-Wan has chosen to do. We doubt that a Jedi could ever be cruel to someone in mourning (or anyone in general) and we can only hope that, despite the strong protective drive we all have for Obi and Ani, the Jedi only appear as those who don't understand what Obi-Wan is doing because it's unlike what they normally do.

These first few chapters are also hard for writing Obi-Wan because he's knee-deep in angst right now and we aren't fond of the overpowering nature of the angst he's going through, particularly in the next chapter.

Speaking of.

**Next chapter:** Job hunting.


	3. Chapter 3

**Part Three**

Obi-Wan had not slept the previous night. After setting Anakin to bed he sat up until dawn in meditation on what steps he needed to take to get a job. Over the course of the long night, the former Jedi had learned - not for the first time - just how naïve he was in the ways of the galaxy. A Jedi worked for the Order for life (himself notwithstanding) and simply did not need to go through the process of procuring employment. Even the Corps: Medical, Agricultural, the areas were Initiates were sent - they were sent there because it was decided for them. No one in the order drew pay - money was a source of greed and a step towards the Darkside; all compensation they received from missions and assignments funneled straight to thinks like upkeep of the Temple or feeding the Order or other maintenance where money was unfortunately unavoidable. In the exceedingly rare occasion where there was excess, it went to humanitarian efforts.

This left Obi-Wan sheltered, as he realized he had no idea how anyone even _got_ a job. Oh, he knew he would have to walk around and ask people, likely go through an interview or answer a few questions, but he didn't know whom to ask or if there was anything he needed to be aware of. At first he had supposed it would have to do with the line of work he was looking for - but even in this he didn't know where to start. He had skills, certainly, but he realized he could not identify what was _marketable_, what would make people want to _hire_ him. He knew he had skills in mediation and negotiation, but those skills he often used for political disputes; and he loathed politics. Such a job would also likely send him gallivanting across the planet or even the entire sector, and he was hesitant to leave Anakin for that long. He was versed in many languages, but he hadn't a clue how one got a job as a translator. He had some physical prowess, but was uncomfortable with the idea of a mercenary or bounty hunter. He wanted to do well, not create more chaos.

In the end, after those hours of meditation, he had made very little progress, and when dawn arrived he simply sighed and stood up. Anakin was still asleep but not for long and Obi-Wan gave him a few extra minutes, instead favoring a window and looking out over the expanse of Theed, his new home. The Solleu River appeared in bits and pieces between buildings, the main boulevard was eerily empty of people, though the pyres were still there, one or two still wafting smoke into the grey morning light. Mist from the river clung to parts of the city - Obi-Wan realized he would need to buy a map, the latest in a series of purchases with credits he didn't have that would be critical in order for him to conform to this, his new home.

A ship rose from beneath the falls, a political cruiser, _the_ political cruiser that had carried the Supreme Chancellor and his entourage. And the Jedi. Master Yoda, Master Windu, they were all leaving without him, then. There was no turning back. His decision was officially irrevocable.

"...Master," he whispered, desperate for counsel, "What am I going to do?"

It still surprised him when no answer came. That hurt even more, and he closed his eyes before they could water and pressed his forehead to the glass. A hundred moments flashed before his mind's eye, looks and touches and smiles and soft gazes; all marred with, "_Then I will train him,_" said so casually as if it never occurred to him that he still had a Padawan that needed him. "_You must train the boy,_" his last words. The hurt was unimaginable. Obi-Wan realized he would have to come up with an answer himself; and so he took a deep breath and turned away from the window. Wallowing in self-pity would certainly _not_ help. He needed to be _productive_, which in turn, meant it was time for Anakin to wake up.

"Anakin, it's time to get up."

"..._echuta_ Watto _poodoo_..."

... A wonderful start to the day. Obi-Wan rubbed his forehead before shaking a small shoulder. "Anakin, it's time to wake up."

"_Karking koochoo loca peedunky_," he mumbled, a little more cognizant.

Yes, a wonderful start indeed. "Language, Padawan," Obi-Wan said in a firm voice. "Vulgarity gets one nowhere."

Anakin's eyes snapped open and he shot up to a sitting position. "Obi-Wan!" he said in surprise. "I was dreaming Watto was making Mom work twice as hard as I ever did 'cause he was mad that he lost me in the Boonta Eve race!"

The former Jedi nodded, tugging at his Padawan braid, half listening. "Get dressed, please. I've let you sleep in an extra hour but it's time we got going; I don't want the boulevard crowded. Prying eyes have always been annoying."

"But it was really scary! Mom was tired but she had to work anyway! What if that's really happening? I gotta go back to Tatooine and get her off that stupid rock!"

Patience, Obi-Wan reminded himself. Patience. "Anakin," he said slowly, rubbing his forehead down to his jaw. Force, he was tired. "I expect your mother to be fine given current circumstances. Most likely your dream was a way for your mind to represent your inner anxieties. You are naturally worried about her and your imagination is creating justifications for the worry. The dream will pass as the day wears on. Now please get changed, we're wasting the day."

Anakin frowned a moment longer, but finally crawled out of bed and started to dress.

Within twenty minutes they exited the Palace and walked a decent length of the main boulevard. Workers were disassembling the pyres, the ash having already been confiscated by families and friends the previous night to scatter over the falls.

"What are we doing here?" Anakin asked. The sun started to crest the oxidized copper roofs of the city.

"Training," Obi-Wan explained. "Every morning we will get up at dawn and come here. I will teach you some new move or kata, and we will spend the morning practicing."

"...But so _early_?" Anakin asked, rubbing an eye.

"Yes, so early," Obi-wan replied. "It is in the morning, just after sleep, that the mind is most open to training and the Force. Since I do not know how our respective schedules will settle down, for now it is best to do it at dawn. After this you will go back to the Palace with Her Majesty and I will find us proper lodging and work to pay for it."

"Why can't we just stay at the palace?" Anakin demanded, suddenly petulant.

Would they _ever_ get started? Obi-Wan took a deep breath. "It would be a bad idea to stay at the Palace, Anakin, because Padme would be a distraction for you - as she is now I might add. In addition to that, a Jedi, above all things, is a master of himself. He or she can adapt to any circumstances to do what must be done. This requires a certain level of self-sufficiency. Would we be self-sufficient if we kept imposing on Padme's hospitality?"

"...No," Anakin mumbled. "But we can still visit her, right?"

"If she has the free time, then yes."

"Okay! Then what are we waiting for?" he demanded, suddenly excited.

Obi-Wan wisely kept his thoughts on the matter to himself and began the training. First they did work on the bond so they could better sense each other, then they worked on synchronizing to each other - the success of which startled Obi-Wan as he realized another facet of how talented Anakin was. Once they were both comfortable with the sensation, Obi-Wan took him through the first forms of Form I.

It felt...

It felt... good. When they finished, the workers had several pyres gone and had moved past them, further down the boulevard. The sun had climbed well into the sky, it was mid morning, when businesses opened and people were starting to fill the massive street. There was a calmness in Obi-Wan's mind he'd not felt for days, since his master's death, since that terrible time in the generator complex. The columns of energy, the red barriers, the red lightsaber...

"_It's up to you, now._"

Be productive.

Obi-Wan turned to Anakin. "Most likely you're quite hungry. Go to the Palace and have some breakfast. I hope to be back by tonight."

"Okay," Anakin said. "Be safe!"

"Pardon?"

"'Be safe.' It's what Mom always said when I went to work."

"I see. As a Jedi, you will say something with the same meaning: 'May the Force be with you.'"

"Okay. Then 'may the Force be with you.'"

"May the Force be with you. Oh, and Anakin."

"Yeah?"

"When I come back I want you to be able to explain why that phrase is redundant, especially for a Jedi."

"Aww!"

Once Anakin had disappeared up the boulevard to eat his breakfast, Obi-Wan inhaled deeply. He could smell the humid scent of the river, burnt fir needles from the pyres, and sunlight. It was a bright, cheerful day. Qui-Gon would have loved it.

"_It's up to you, now._"

Obi-Wan shook his head. Be productive!

He looked about the boulevard. Several buildings were ruined, the Federation's bombing having destroyed easily a third to half the plaza. Construction crews of some sort were everywhere, clearing away rubble and debris. The search for survivors had long since passed. Men were placing notices of refugee camps amid the thousands of holos of missing persons and lost family members. Obi-Wan did spy one or two shops still open; he walked into the closest one.

"Excuse me," he said softly, politely asking for attention.

The keeper looked up from making an inventory of her wares. "Shop won't be open for another day or so until I can see what's broke and what's not."

"I understand," Obi-Wan replied. "I'm not here to purchase something."

"Then go away, I'm busy."

"Milady, I am currently looking for employment and-"

Her eyes snapped up to him, assessing, calculating. "No," she answered, looking back to her work.

"I'm sorry?"

"No. You're hands are too big for the work, and you'd be too clumsy to do it anyway."

"You can hardly attest that if you don't-"

"Leave. I have inventory." With that, she picked up a box of material and disappeared to a back room.

Obi-Wan frowned but would not let one poor experience deter him. It was still early morning, he had the entire day ahead of him. He moved to the next shop, a store with a cavernous room filled with circular racks of clothing; they appeared to be separated by type. The former Jedi looked around at first, not seeing anyone though the door was open. "Hello?" he called out.

"Yeah?" a man in very tailored clothing appeared. "What can I do for - oh, goodness do you need help."

Obi-Wan blinked. "I beg your pardon?"

"What do you think you are? A down-on-his-luck Jedi? Hand-me-down robes, dirt and tears everywhere, you'd think you'd just been in battle. It simply won't do. You're lucky you came here. Now that we're free of the invaders we're all able to go back to business as usual. I'm letting you know right now, no discount. The economy is going to crumble in the next few days and I want to make the money while I can before I'm forced to drop my prices to unbearable amounts. And I'm sure the imports will still be off the charts expensive, how will a body make a living? So, what kind of look are you looking for?"

"I am looking for work," Obi-Wan answered slowly.

The man nodded. "Yes, yes, I can understand. Entire wardrobes were ruined with the invasion; businesses too, hundreds of people no longer even have businesses to go _to_, but the fashion! One can't expect to get work looking like that! I'll fix you right up, make you look like royalty! I have a lovely suit here that would be the perfect color for you and-"

"I fear you misunderstand my meaning, sir," Obi-Wan interjected carefully. "I am looking for work _here_. Are you currently employing?"

The man was brought up suddenly short, and he stared at Obi-Wan incredulously. "With a falling economy? Can I take on more help! Goodness no! Don't even consider it! But the suit, now _that_..."

Obi-Wan quickly left.

He learned very quickly that nobody seemed to be interested in taking employment; all offering different and varied reasons or just flat out refusing to even acknowledge him. By noontime he was becoming slightly discouraged, he wasn't completely certain what he was doing wrong. The Jedi was being polite, certainly, and those that were gracious enough to listen to him were exposed to some of his finest verbosity, but still they all said no. He'd crisscrossed the entire boulevard, those that were intact, and had found no one interested in taking him on. Was a Jedi that specialized? That unmarketable?

Exiting the latest shop he looked up to the bright sun. Obi-Wan was hungry, but he had no credits to buy food, and he solemnly refused to impose himself even more on Her Majesty. He would have to try a different district.

"You lookin' for work, yesa?"

Obi-Wan managed to hide a cringe at the distinct accent of a Gungan, and reminded himself that his experiences with the species were extremely limited and Jar Jar Binks was not one to use as a standard. On anything. Turning, he saw a Gungan of a deep brown color, easily a head taller than Obi-Wan.

"Were you referring to me?" he asked slowly.

"Yesa. You lookin' for work?"

"Yes. I don't suppose you are offering it?" Obi-Wan replied in a wry tone.

"No, nosa. Wesa in the same position. We lookin' for work, but no one givin' it. Now, me know why me not workin'; you _Hisan_ not used to Gungan. But you, yousa goin' about this all wrong."

"Am I?" he asked, his wry tones slightly falling away.

"Yousa askin' the wrong people."

Now this was interesting. "... I am?" Obi-Wan queried.

"You askin' for work from long-bills. Deysa spendin' their time lookin' down their bills at ya. Since yousa no lookin' like a long-bill, deysa always sayin' no."

Obi-Wan considered the advice, remembering the clothes merchant who commented at length how poorly he was dressed. He simply had no other robes to utilize, but he of all people knew that presentation was often very important in negotiations. Blast, he should have been thinking about the problem like a negotiation, he would have been so much better prepared! Out on his own for only one day and already he was letting down his mas-

Be productive!

Obi-Wan worked to shrug off the negative emotions. "Well then, friend, what would you suggest?"

"Wesa lookin' for work toget'er," the Gungan replied. "Wesa have same build, and there be much workin' to pass around."

"And what kind of work would that be?" Obi-Wan asked.

"Construction."

Obi-Wan's eyes snapped to the ruins on the boulevard, the constructions crews he had simply passed by earlier as they cleared debris. Manual labor... saber training did give him the physique for it, and he would be helping rebuild the city, being useful and productive. Yes... He eyed the Gungan. "I must thank you for the suggestion; I'm afraid to admit that the thought simply never occurred to me."

"Mm. Me t'ought so. Me workin' in Ota Gunga, would still be but Boss Nass said it was time to be sayin' 'hi' to the _Hisen_ and me likin' tryin' new t'ings."

"It would appear that we are in similar straights then," Obi-Wan said, "We are both trying new things. Shall we begin?"

"Mm. Yes."

"What is your name?"

"Augara Bow."

"I am Obi-Wan Kenobi. It is an honor to meet you."

The pair walked up to a man directing workers at one of the ruins. After a quick debate it was decided that Obi-Wan would be spokesman. "Excuse me, sir, we were wondering if there was employment for us here."

The man paused, looking at the two. "You're cloak's hiding too much," he said brusquely, "Take it off. Don't want a ninety-kay weakling thinking he can do this work."

Obi-Wan took off his deep brown cloak and a hand shot out to grip his arm. The man also made Augara perform some simple tasks before he nodded. "Good meat on you. Alright, any boulder you can carry goes into that bin there," he gestured, "And any valuables you find come to me so I can get them back to their owners. The dozers will do the rest."

"And pay?" the brown Gungan asked.

"By the pound," the man muttered, staring at a clipboard. "Not enough for standard rates yet, so for now I pay by how much hauling you do. Once the rubble's clear and we're actually _building_ I can offer more. Rate's fifty credits a pound, shift is eight hours with half hour break for lunch in it. I don't pay for the lunch. You got housing?"

"No," Obi-Wan said, with Augara nodding.

"Only place left that's got rooms that I know of is Granpa Jafan. He ain't great but I'm guessing you both ain't in a position to complain. If not, it's the Camps. Work stops at sundown, right at curfew."

"There's a curfew?" Obi-Wan asked, remembering the late night he and many others had the previous night.

"Last night was the exception 'cause of the funeral," the man said, looking perplexed. "What, did you just get off the transport or something?"

"In a manner of speaking," Obi-Wan replied carefully. He was not in a place or position to explain his circumstances to others.

"Kay, well, a word to the new and naïve, we've been invaded for no reason by some other system and had to sit on our hands in concentration camps while they did their best to level the city and turn us into a factory planet. Now they're gone and we've got a mess to clean up; curfew is at sundown so opportunists don't loot the city and people don't kill themselves 'cause they lost everything. For the next week all businesses are closed 'cept construction so people can inventory their stock and make a list of supplies they need so we can order off planet and waste our money on overpriced aid from the Senate that will come two years too late. A third of the city is at our feet an' it's up to us to fix it; and you are wasting my time and docking your own pay if you're gonna work for me. Now get going."

Obi-Wan hesitated at first; this man had an utterly unrefined attitude and simply put, Obi-Wan didn't like him. He also understood that he didn't have much in the way of choice; there were other firms likely working, but it was late enough in the day that pay wouldn't be as much as he feared was necessary to procure lodgings. He was simply afraid that he would not find a better deal; and he just didn't know if this was a "good deal" or not.

What would Qui-Gon do...?

_Be productive_!

"... Where would you like me?"

* * *

When curfew came and the sun set, Obi-Wan had worked just under eight hours. While others dashed off to their dwellings and/or refugee camps to rest until the next day, Obi-Wan was left to haggle with his new foreman to get an advance on his pay so he could make a down payment on the rooms that had been suggested to him. By the time he had finally managed to win the negotiation the second moon was raising; and so he hurried to up the boulevard to secure the room and then back to the palace. One more nigh's sleep, he hoped, would not be a further imposition to Padme.

However, no sooner than he turned off the main thoroughfare that a Naboo security guard absconded him, demanding what his business was. Obi-Wan was more than happy to explain the situation, and if the officer would be kind enough to point him to the residence of "Granpa Jafan" he would no longer be a bother. Instead the officer grabbed him roughly by the arm and said there would be no trouble making on her watch and escorted him to one of the refugee camps, throwing him in one of the gates and locking it behind her. Aghast at such treatment, he stared after the woman for a moment before he decided it was simply not worth the effort. All of his muscles were screaming in protest at the work he'd performed and he was in no mood to exercise them further. Others seemed to be of similar thoughts, for everyone around him was asleep on cots or bedrolls or folded up coats and clothes. He seemed to be the only one awake.

Finding a small corner he sat down.

He hoped young Anakin would be all right; he'd promised to be back by sundown, but with the camp locked down to prevent looters he doubted he could escape until dawn when the curfew was lifted. On many levels he still didn't know what to make of the child. His presence in the Force was remarkable; he could only guess what the boy would feel like when he had more training. Anakin had the oddest notions about the oddest things, he was painfully attached to those he was close to; his mother, Padme, Qui-...

He would have to find some way to ad-hock a training saber. He knew what he needed, but he had no parts and no idea as yet whom to ask for them. It would also likely cost credits he now had but not in adequate supply. He could cobble together a stun droid and program it, and any helmet with a blast shield could do, but the training saber would quickly become an issue. Was he even allowed to have a 'saber now that he was no longer a Jedi? More often than not those with lightsabers that were not Jedi were of ill intent and Obi-Wan certainly didn't want to be misconstrued such a way, though for the immediate future he doubted he would come across any Jedi. Likely he would never meet a Jedi again... And they would make assumptions regardless...

He would have to keep an eye on the economy now, something he paid little attention to as a rule unless it affected a mission. What he'd heard from the fashion merchant and the foreman and others implied that the Trade Federation was only the beginning of a long road of tough times. Augara, the Gungan he had met, could offer little insight because his people had lived separate from the humans for eons and they did not have such a "paper-tensin'" bureaucracy. _He_ had wanted to see the credits physically manifested, not be told that they had been transferred to an account that the foreman had set up for him while the pair were toiling away and could be withdrawn from any bank. Augara had been quite cross and Obi-Wan had been forced to pull him aside and explain what little he knew of how pay was drawn and distributed. "It makin' no sense!" Augara had said. No doubt Qui-Gon would have enjoyed the refreshingly different perspect...

Obi-Wan shook his head, determined to _be_ _productive_.

The dawn hours would work well for the physical training, and the evening hours could be used for instruction and meditation - assuming the boy could sit still long enough for Obi-Wan to teach the sutras. He also needed to find another source of education for Anakin; he could not do it full time like he had hoped as a Jedi. Padme had spoken once of a Royal House of Learning. Did one have to pay for schooling? Another drain on credits. There was also the legal process of becoming Anakin's legal guardian, Padme had started the paperwork but Obi-Wan doubted such a process would be free of charge; he also didn't know what the procedure would entail. He had yet to see the apartment - it would have to be his first stop before picking up Anakin and saying his goodbyes to the queen. He needed clothes, and even furniture for the rooms, food for the next several days. He needed to assess what Anakin's splotchy education up to now had retained, datapads and communicators - though right now those would be luxury items.

Luxury items? Obi-Wan shook his head, trying to prioritize.

First: arrange for an apartment and "Granpa Jafan." If rooms were not available, he would have to stay at the Camps; he refused to have special treatment from Padme. Then, pick up Anakin for morning training and unfortunately sic him on the Queen again. Go to work and start building up credits. After his shift he would ask around for schooling for Anakin, learn what was necessary, and if he was extraordinarily lucky, enroll him to start the next day. Of course, there was no such thing as luck, so Obi-Wan knew there would be problems with this, and he cursed that he was foisting the boy on the Palace staff as much as he was. But, once both of their days had some kind of schedule he could start building up his account to make the necessary purchases. He tried to remember what kind of expenses someone might have, things he'd overheard or picked up with Qui - while he was out on missions. There would be power bills, water bills, communication bills, food, rent of course, taxes would come up yearly and Obi-Wan didn't even want to _think_ about how many forms would be necessary to fill out for that.

Blast, forms! There would be forms for Anakin's schooling, registering them both as citizens of the planet - did his identification number still work now that he was no longer a Jedi? A Jedi didn't have a stipend, would he even have a balance on it? Papers for his employment would certainly come in the next few days, and probably hundreds of other things that he didn't even _know_ about and he felt so overwhelmed and there was _no one_, _no one_ to help him because his master was _dead_ and he was the _cause_ of it and there was nothing he could to do _fix_ it and he didn't even have the _Jedi_ and it all hurt _so much_ and he _didn't know what to do!_

Looking down in the dim light Obi-Wan saw his hands shaking. His whole body was shaking, and he soon dipped his head down into his hands, curling his form almost into a ball.

Just three days ago he was a Senior Padawan with a Master and a bright future and a possible knighting on the horizon (a knighting that would have been painful because of the source, because Qui-Gon kicked him aside in favor of Anakin; but still a knighting...). His future as a Jedi lay before him: missions, adventure, the Code, training future generations, doing good in the galaxy.

In the span of twenty-four hours it disappeared. All of it. No Master, no Jedi, no Code, no future, _nothing_; only a boy that his master favored over him and a steadfast promise to train him that had cost him everything. _Everything_. Now he had so many new responsibilities he didn't know where to start. There was so much to _do_ and not enough of him to go around and he couldn't keep asking for help - a Jedi was self-sufficient and he was already failing left and right and he didn't even have his _master_ to give him counsel.

He was rocking back and forth slightly, his shoulders shaking.

Desperately he reached out for the Force. _Help me. Please. Somebody help me._ He felt guilty even for asking the Force for help.

_"I will train him."_

_ "I believe that he is the Chosen One."_

_ "Promise me... Promise me you will train the boy."_

_ "He... will bring balance."_

_ "... Train him..."_

It hurt. It hurt so much Obi-Wan couldn't stand it. Did he know? Did Qui-Gon know what it was going to mean to train Anakin? What it would end up costing Obi-Wan? Did he _ever_ take Obi-Wan's feelings into account?

"No, no I'm sorry Master," he said quickly, straightening and rubbing his face. "I know, I really do." Qui-Gon was a master of the Living Force, the here and now, the life in the moment. It was the temporary things that always took his attention because he knew it would be gone in an instant if he didn't react to it at that moment. It was the lack of permanence that always made him fight so vehemently for his most recent pet or side project. Obi-Wan, he was permanent, in a way. He was a presence always by Qui-Gon's side, and because the man always knew his Padawan would be there, he didn't have to worry about him. That was how it always was. Qui-Gon didn't mean it. He didn't. He _didn't_. Not like that. It wasn't deliberate, it _wasn't_. _It wasn't_. Qui-Gon simply didn't think ahead. That was Obi-Wan's job. As the Padawan it would always be his jo-

Obi-Wan's hands pulled away slightly, fingers wrapped around his braid. His Padawan braid. It was made in a rush after Bandomeer, off onto the next mission. The strings, the beads, the marks of accomplishments, the milestones. It represented his life with Qui-Gon.

Memories flooded his mind. Qui-Gon's rejection of him when he fought Bruck Chun, his reprisal on the transport to Bandomeer, Obi-Wan offering his own life to save the planet, the Young, Cerasi, Qui-Gon taking him back as an apprentice, fighting Xanatos, Bruck's death and Qui-Gon's determination to stop Xanatos, Qui-Gon's words about Siri Tachi, Tahl and her death and Qui-Gon's dangerously dark actions, the mind-wipe and how Qui-Gon found him, missions, battles, adventures, dangers. But also there were quiet moments: morning tea, a massive hand on his shoulder, an approving glance, sweat and lightsabers, debriefings on transports before a mission, "pathetic life-forms," watering plants and healing wounded animals, planting seeds and meditations. All of it swept over him and the emotions threatened to even further overwhelm him.

If only he had been faster, just that much faster. Only _one blasted_ barrier faster, he would have been at his place by his master's side; and really, _he_ was the apprentice, the one with the least experience, it should have been _he_ who died and _not_ Qui-Gon. What he wouldn't give to reverse the positions! Qui-Gon would have been so much happier that way; he would have had Anakin and Obi-Wan would not have been in the way and the two were a perfect match. If only he hadn't fallen so many levels, if only he hadn't taken that blow to make him fall. He wasn't even a Knight and he was going to train a boy too old to be trained in the ways of the Force? In the ways of the _Jedi_? Whom was he kidding? On top of that he had to find lodging and pay bills and work who knew how long to make ends meet in order to even _keep_ Anakin lest some service realize the truth that he was unfit to do _any of this_ and take Anakin _away_ and he didn't think he could survive if his one last link to Qui-Gon - however painful - could be taken away from him.

... Where was he? Where _was_ he? _Where_ was his master when Obi-Wan needed him most? The former Jedi looked left and right but only found the darkness of full night, the moons so high in the sky they could not even cast dim light into the tiny and overcrowded room he was in, surrounded by people who, like he, had lost everything.

He was a _Jedi_, he should have been _better_ than this. He yanked at his braid. What was _wrong_ with him? Qui-Gon had rejoined the Force, he should have been happy, like he'd told Anakin; but he wasn't, and he _couldn't turn it off_. Grief overrode everything, he couldn't concentrate, couldn't meditate, couldn't _anything_, but he had to do _something_, had to be _productive_ or else it would have all been for _nothing_.

_Help me!_

Nobody answered.

The emotional tidal wave was too much, and he couldn't stop shaking.

_Please! Anyone!_

"You ever gonna shut up?" someone mumbled.

Startled, Obi-Wan looked up but could see no one in the darkness. He could feel the conscious, or half-conscious, mind a little to his left, against a wall. "... I'm sorry," he whispered. "I did not intend to disturb anyone."

"We're all grieving, pal. Get through whatever stage you're in and get over it."

"... Stage?"

"Five stages of grief. Now shut up an' let a man sleep."

"_Here and now, Padawan. What have I always told you?_"

Exhausted, Obi-Wan took a deep breath and wiped his face with his sleeves, then his hands. Inhaling through his nose, he slowly exhaled through is mouth. His body was still shaking, but he forced it to be still, to relax one muscle at a time. He did not know what the five stages of grief were, but he knew the five steps to releasing emotions to the Force. Every Jedi worked through it in different ways, and sometimes meditation helped a Padawan along. Force knew Qui-Gon had helped Obi-Wan enough times. The first three stages, Obi-Wan knew, he had gone through very quickly: Denial when Qui-Gon was impaled, his declaration of "Nooo!" Anger when he had faced the dark creature, fighting desperately to avenge his master until it had nearly cost him his life. Bargaining, when he promised his master anything he wanted in his last words, focused as Qui-Gon was only on Anakin, even in death pressed with the here and now and unable to see Obi-Wan himself. That had lasted for several hours, until he had questioned Anakin and saw beyond his bargaining and to the potentiality that the boy possessed. That meant he was in depression.

Of course he was; it was the stage he most often got stuck in, the stage he most often needed meditation for, the stage he most often called to Qui-Gon for help.

Only Qui-Gon wasn't there anymore to help him. He had to do it himself.

He had to do _all_ of it himself.

He took a deep, shuddering breath, and tried to relax again. He had to reach acceptance. He _had_ to. He had to move on from this so he could do what was needed of him, what was expected of him, what was his duty. Obi-Wan reached up and touched his braid again. The memories that filled him... they would do no good. They had to go.

They had to _go_.

_It_ had to go.

He was a Knight now, technically. He didn't even need it anymore.

Really.

He didn't.

Fumbling slightly, Obi-Wan reached into his utility belt for his pocket blade. His hands were still shaking; he cut himself trying to open the knife, just another scratch in the myriad he had produced in his long hours of manual labor. The droplets of blood were meaningless anyway, as one fist gently wrapped around the base of his braid, holding it out from his temple. The blade was cool against his skin, and Obi-Wan ran it across his temple one quick jerky motion. His ear started to burn, not doubt he had cut it as well, but the braid fell loose in his fist, and he stared down to where it should be in the dark. One part of his mind didn't quite believe it, that it was _gone_ now. Only it wasn't, it was still in his hands, still taunting him.

"Master," he whispered, "... I'm sorry."

And he tossed it blindly across the room, gone into the darkness, gone away from him. He heard no impact, had no idea where it landed.

A clean break.

* * *

Hours later, when false dawn started to breach the room, Obi-Wan left the Camps with a mind-trick or two to acquire a room with Jafan and gather his new Padawan.

He knew if he lingered any longer, he would loose his resolve and go looking for that braid.

"Here and now," he murmured to himself, shoving all his turmoil aside. He needed a strong face to greet his Padawan.

He hoped he hadn't worried Anakin.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** So much to say for this chapter. There were a couple points of inspiration for this chapter. One (which may or may not be obvious) was from a certain fic called "Shadows of the Future" that, if you've never read it, you must stop and go do now. There's a scene there where Qui-Gon, in meditation, watches a grieving Obi-Wan cut his braid. That was recycled to this with our own spin.

Another source, much more personal, was when, a couple of years ago, our parents were both in ICU in the hospital within six months of each other. Our mother for suddenly contracting an infection and entering a diabetic coma for ten days; our father for a heart that was only working at five percent capacity and needed quintuple bypass surgery. It was a rough year, and over the course of it we were literally in charge of everything: their finances, their doctors appointments, paying their bills and drawing their paychecks, fixing major appliances that had the horrible sense of timing to break down in the middle of it, feeding and dressing them when they came home, giving them their medication, and being emotional crutches for both of them while the other was in the hospital. We were overwhelmed on all levels. Tack on that Obi-Wan is grieving over Qui-Gon's death and you get his angst ridden headspace where he's trying to hard to be productive and conquer all the problems that have suddenly assaulted him and making mistakes as he does.

Obi-Wan spends a lot of time in stage four, depression; and he has a lot of reasons for that. We're walking a very fine line because of this, and we tried really hard to pair it down to a bare minimum, but these scenes when they do pop up will be necessarily heavy. Consider yourself warned. This chapter, by far, is the heaviest in the angst and we have a love/hate relationship with it as a result. Both of us dislike angst-only fics were things only go wrong and there's no escape from it. In our opinion, the reader will always need a lighthearted scene as a breather to regain emotional balance before getting ready to sink into depravity again. This chapter doesn't really have any levity to it and amounts to pure angst. Thankfully, Obi-Wan won't sink to this level again. But he will reach for it and we hope it won't be as strong as this is.

And why construction? Well, why not? After a lot of idea germination, we really liked the idea of Obi-Wan doing minimum wage work. He's so over qualified for it, but he's naïve enough that he doesn't know where to start. His training at the Temple has made him very knowledgeable, but not about certain things, and the idea of him not knowing how to get a job entertained us to no end, and we will play this joke on him a couple of times over the course of the fic as "real life" suddenly springs on him. It's true to life, in some ways, we've been out of college for years and we still will be pulled up short for something we didn't realize (er, should we be admitting that...?) like the price of health insurance and how it all adds up when you're on substitute pay.

Next week is our last "week off" and after that we'll put this story on pause and go back to Simple Steps.

**Next chapter:** A home. I guess...


	4. Chapter 4

**Part Four**

Anakin bolted up in bed, sweating and panting heavily. A nightmare. It _had_ to be a nightmare. Obi-Wan wouldn't have really lied and gone back to the Jedi, glad to be rid of a _slave_ who would no doubt be a _lot_ of work to train because he didn't really _know_ anything because Watto and other owners didn't let them get schooled beyond basics and he was such a disappointment because he couldn't help save Qui-Gon from that monster in black and red. No, Obi-Wan _wouldn't_ have abandoned him.

Right?

Because he'd _promised_ Qui-Gon he'd train him. And Obi-Wan, from what Anakin had seen over the past few days, _always_ kept his promises.

Except when he didn't.

Because Obi-Wan didn't come back the previous night like he _said_ he would.

Tears welled up for Anakin again. He'd been up and worried and upset all night. He knew that Obi-Wan had promised to train him. But was that all Anakin was? A last promise to their father-figure that a responsible guy like Obi-Wan would put the effort into? Anakin shook his head, holding down a sob. Obi-Wan _liked_ him. They'd just gotten off on the wrong foot. They were already doing better. Obi-Wan paid attention to him and answered his never-ending questions. He was gentle, patient, attentive, and he never did the stuff that Watto did when Anakin got annoying.

Obi-Wan wouldn't abandon him.

Anakin took in a shuddering breath as he scraped tears from his eyes, striving to be as quiet as possible.

It was just a dream.

A nightmare.

It wouldn't happen.

It _couldn't_. Because then, what would Anakin have?

He'd already given up his mother and his life on Tatooine. He'd done that because he'd _thought_ he was going to be a _Jedi_. But the Jedi had said no. Except for Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan had said yes. And he was doing it anyway. Anakin _would_ be a Jedi. In all but name, just like Obi-Wan said.

But Obi-Wan wasn't there. He didn't come back. And Qui-Gon was _gone_. Anakin just didn't know what to do. Padme would help him, he knew that. But he didn't _want_ to always go to her. He wanted her to be able to come to _him_. He was going to _marry_ her one day, so he _had_ to be able to do stuff for her. Not the other way around. Obi-Wan said a Jedi was self-sufficient, able to take care of themselves, and Anakin agreed that this was important. He needed to be able to take care of things to hopefully impress Padme one day. Yet Anakin understood he was a child. He _needed_ help from _someone_. Qui-Gon was _supposed_ to be that someone, but he was dead.

Obi-Wan had _started_ to be that someone, but he wasn't there.

Still shaking, Anakin crawled out of his bed, furiously trying to swipe tears away as they continued to leak from his eyes.

Obi-Wan wasn't there. No one was there.

...Anakin wanted someone there to hug.

...He _needed_ a hug.

Not even his mother was there.

He was alone.

And he _hated_ it.

He wiped his eyes again, intent on getting to the bathroom when he paused. Between his haggard breaths, he thought he'd heard voices. One of them sounded like Padme. She'd been there to try and comfort him, despite her busy schedule, when she learned that Obi-Wan hadn't returned. But Anakin hadn't exactly been consolable. The last thing he remembered was sitting on the sofa worrying. That meant she'd put him to bed.

She really was so kind. Despite his bleak outlook on things, the fact that she cared enough to do something like that for him lifted his heart a tiny bit. Had she stayed through the night?

The other voice, however, was what really caught his ear.

"Obi-Wan!"

Physical needs completely forgotten, Anakin raced into the sitting area, saw his new brother leaning back in a cushy armchair, and jumped into his lap, latching his arms around Obi-Wan's neck as tightly as he could. Tears started anew, but he no longer felt the need to hold them back. Obi-Wan was there and Anakin finally had someone to lean on.

"Obi-Wan! You're back! I was so scared and worried! I thought you'd left to go be with the Jedi and that I was useless to you and that I was all alone because I don't even have Mom here anymore and I didn't know what to do and it was either that or you'd been killed or hurt or kidnapped and I wasn't _there_ and I couldn't help you just like I couldn't help Qui-Gon and-"

Anakin's new brother seemed to be uncertain of hugs. There were times, usually when Qui-Gon was mentioned by the Jedi who'd been there, that Obi-Wan held him tight and wouldn't let go. Other times, he seemed utterly clueless on the fact that a hug was needed and completely uncertain on how to even give a good hug.

Arms tentatively came up and Anakin squeezed all the harder, hoping it encouraged Obi-Wan that hugging was okay and that he _really_ needed a hug at this particular time.

"Hush, Padawan," Obi-Wan whispered, finally holding him close. Anakin didn't care that Obi-Wan was all sweaty and dirty and grimy. He just squeezed his hug with all his might and Obi-Wan tentatively ran a hand through his hair. Anakin gave a happy little sigh through his sobs.

"As you can see," Padme said with a large smile in her voice, "Ani was quite worried about you."

Anakin tilted his head long enough to see her out of the corner of his eye, dressed as a handmaiden, before snuggling back into Obi-Wan's embrace.

"I'm sorry for worrying you," Obi-Wan whispered into Anakin's ear. "I did try to be back by nightfall. I wasn't expecting complications."

Anakin leaned back and scowled up to his new brother. "You could have _called_. My mom _always_ makes me call her when I was going to be late coming back from Watto."

Obi-Wan blinked, then gave a wan smile. "I admit, it never occurred to me."

Anakin wiped his eyes again and then wiped away the words. "'s okay. Now you know, so there won't be a problem next time." Anakin looked down, suddenly very quiet. "Right?" he asked tentatively. He _was_ a priority for Obi-Wan right? Not just an afterthought?

Obi-Wan's smile was a bit more genuine. "No, there won't be a problem."

Anakin smiled brightly.

"So what kept you?" Padme asked, bringing in a tray of tea from the small kitchen their borrowed rooms had.

"I was on my way to secure lodgings for myself and Anakin when a security guard told me it was past curfew." Obi-Wan shifted Anakin, clearly wanting to get to his tea. Anakin easily moved, but didn't get out of Obi-Wan's lap. He reached for juice for himself.

"Curfew?" Anakin asked. "Like when my mom told me to be home by a certain time?"

"Yes, Ani," Padme nodded. "I installed it so that there wouldn't be looters or other trouble at night while we're sorting through everything. As we sort through things and get stability again, the curfew will be one of the first things to go."

"A wise decision, though I was caught unawares," Obi-Wan agreed, sipping his tea.

Padme bowed her head. "I apologize. I thought you knew."

Obi-Wan waved the apology aside, much as Anakin had done moments ago. (This made Anakin smile as he realized he had more common ground with his new brother.) "You need not apologize, milady. I should have realized you'd take such preventative measures." He took another sip of tea. "I asked to be taken to where I was hoping to get a room, but instead I was taken to a refugee camp."

Padme frowned.

"Milady, did you know that refugees are locked in their camps at night?"

Her frown deepened. "I was not aware of this," she said in her queen voice. "This is unacceptable. My people have suffered enough imprisonment. I will not have my own Security Forces imitating such conditions." She took a sip of her own tea. "I take it you didn't have bathing facilities either. Or even a sonic shower?"

Obi-Wan shrugged, looking rather embarrassed at his current less-than-clean condition. Anakin grinned, finding that amusing. "We never got showers or baths much back on Tatooine," he said. "Obi-Wan actually looks really clean to me."

"Well, Anakin," Obi-Wan replied, a grin threatening, "We need to redefine 'clean' for you."

Anakin shrugged, not caring one way or the other. "Long as it doesn't waste water."

His new brother gave him a thorough once-over. "Our initial scrubbing might use more water than you're comfortable with, but subsequent washes shouldn't be such an issue. Unless you decide to get filthy again."

"It's kinda hard not to when working on engines," he said brightly.

Obi-Wan frowned. "Anakin, you are not a slave anymore. You don't have to work every day like that. You haven't had much of a childhood and while a Jedi's training will be hard work, I won't steal what remains of your younger years. I want you to be in school and have fun like any other youngling."

Anakin's jaw dropped. He'd meant his comment in jest, but Obi-Wan had clearly been putting a lot of thought into this. He was committed and that just made Anakin happy in a way he hadn't been since he decided to leave his mother behind.

"I get to go to school? Really?" Slaves were never allowed much education.

"Yes, Anakin. Really. Though we may not be able to enroll you for a day or two. We need to get settled into our new room, I need to find a good school and get all the filework for that started..."

Padme interjected. "Don't worry about that," she said. "A good social worker can help handle all of that and get you settled."

Anakin turned. "What's a social worker?"

"Someone who is supposed to help people in trouble," she replied.

"Like a Jedi?" Anakin asked excitedly.

"Not quite," Obi-Wan replied. "They work in more individual concerns while Jedi deal with broader conflicts."

Padme agreed. "Especially where the two of you are setting up a new life here, she'll help you get settled and filed and get through the red tape of getting started."

"Anakin and I can handle-"

Padme gave the Look. The same Look Anakin's mother gave whenever he was doing something stupid.

Obi-Wan looked stubborn for a moment before just sighing tiredly. "As you wish, milady."

Anakin decided he didn't like Obi-Wan looking so tired. He peeked into his new brother's eyes and smiled. "So do we get training now?"

Obi-Wan smiled. "That sounds like a wonderful idea. After that, I can show you our new accommodations. I'm afraid you'll have to entertain yourself here at the Palace again while I'm at work and until we can get you into school."

"Not a problem!" Anakin jumped off of Obi-Wan's lap. "Padme's been real nice and letting me visit her when she has a few minutes and her handmaidens are already teaching me a lot of stuff I never knew before!" he called as he raced to his room to change.

"And no doubt assessing where you'd be placed in whatever school you end up in," Obi-Wan muttered, glancing at the Queen.

Anakin hurried back once he'd changed. "Let's go!" he grabbed Obi-Wan's hand. "We gonna train in that place again? You gonna show me more of that lightsaber form thing we were doing yesterday?"

Obi-Wan, as always, answered every question Anakin asked.

* * *

Anakin stood, looking at the room that Obi-Wan said was theirs now. Anakin was used to a small place. He and his mother's rooms were small and compacted. His own room had doubled as a workshop as well that easily spilled into their living area until his mother made him clean up. It hadn't been much. On the way to Coruscant, he'd had some cushions from benches in the hanger and actually on Coruscant, Padme had made sure that he'd had a room that had seemed like a palace compared to the hovel he'd lived in. The one night he'd stayed at the Temple with Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan he'd stayed in their modest quarters on a couch that had been more comfortable than anything he'd slept on to date. Once they'd gotten to Naboo and the chaos of the battle had finished, Padme had again made sure they'd had the best, with a set of rooms that would have fit _three_ of the hovels he and his mother lived in.

This room... was... tiny. It wasn't a set of rooms, like even the hovel he grew up in with his mother. It was just a room.

One room.

One corner had a tiny kitchenette, there was a door to a miniscule fresher, and the main living area. That was it. Folded in the corner were two mats that looked like they could unfold to bed-sizes and along a wall were a small table and a pair of chairs. A different wall was completely storage and that was it. This was really it. A one-room apartment.

This... wasn't what he expected when Obi-Wan said he'd get some kind of lodging for them. Granted, Anakin didn't know what he was expecting but... something more than this... certainly something more than this...

Obi-Wan's hands tightened on his shoulders. "I... I know this isn't much," he said quietly. "Especially after the extravagance of the Palace, this must seem particularly... dismal. I... It was short notice... This will only be temporary... just... Just till we can get a solid idea of finances... how much my new job will pay, what our expenses will be... There are a lot of initial purchases we need to make," Obi-Wan was talking faster now. "Clothes, blankets, cutlery, basic supplies and such. Credits will be tight for a while as we get some basics, but once we can start saving, we'll be able to look for..." Obi-Wan sounded hesitant again. "...better accommodations..."

Anakin's new brother sighed. "I hope this is satisfactory for now," he said so quietly Anakin wasn't sure he'd heard him. He looked around their small room again. Obi-Wan sounded so unsure of himself. Anakin could relate to that. This was all new to him as well.

"You know, I never had to worry about stuff like credits before," he said, pulling away to poke around the storage wall and peek inside. "Mom managed Watto's finances, but slaves aren't allowed money. The owner had to provide and whenever Watto was having bad times, we always seemed to feel the pinch."

Anakin looked back to Obi-Wan, whose eyes darted around the room before resting on him again. Anakin smiled. "The only way to go from here is up!" He went over to the folded up beds. "You know, this looks more comfortable than what we had on Tatooine."

Behind him, Obi-Wan let out a quiet, relieved sigh.

That made Anakin feel good. Obi-Wan was clearly new to this whole family-idea, even though Qui-Gon was kinda his father. That was fine, since Anakin had never had a big brother before, so that made them even. Anakin had at least seen brothers before, so he knew that they supported each other and teased each other. Anakin was, admittedly, looking forward to the teasing, but Obi-Wan needed to relax for that to happen and since Qui-Gon was dead, he doubted that a relaxed-Obi-Wan was going to happen for a while. That was fine. Anakin had supported his mother when she needed it and he kinda knew what to do. Hugs would be paramount, once Obi-Wan got used to them, as was helping out in any way he could.

And reassurance. His mother was always reassuring him when things happened, and it looked like he was the only one who could give that to Obi-Wan at the moment, since he wasn't taking help from anyone else.

That made Anakin feel needed and wanted. He smiled, looking up to his new brother as Obi-Wan put down his pack and started pulling things out. Obi-Wan was going to be his new project! He was going to help set up their new life together and turn Obi-Wan into the best brother anyone ever had!

They only had a little more time before Obi-Wan had to go to his new job, so Anakin rushed over to help Obi-Wan unpack.

"Hey, Obi-Wan?"

"Yes, Padawan?"

"Does that kata-stuff always make you feel like this when you're done?"

Obi-Wan glanced at him with a smile. "Feel like what?"

Anakin pulled out the blanket he'd borrowed (stolen) from the Nabooan cruiser on the way to Coruscant that was extra thick. "Feel so... _grancha grancha inkabunga_! Errr, I'm not sure the Basic word for it."

Obi-Wan nodded, pulling out Anakin's toolkit that he's brought from Tatooine. "From my understanding of Huttese, I think you're talking about feeling incredible at the moment?"

He nodded, putting his blanket on the folded-bed he decided to claim as his own. "Sort of. It's really hard to explain."

His new brother laughed. "A Jedi feels like that all the time, because we spend so much time dedicated to the Force. You're just starting, but the fact that you can still feel the Force, even after our morning training, is a good sign."

"Wizard," Anakin grinned, coming back to their pack and reaching in as Obi-Wan opened a lower cabinet of their storage wall to put the tools away. Rummaging through the spare clothes he'd brought with him, his hand found something smooth and cool that he brought out.

His face fell, as did Obi-Wan's when he turned around.

It was Qui-Gon's lightsaber.

Anakin stared at it for a moment, sorrow and sadness welling up in him. Obi-Wan came over and knelt down. Both looked at the lightsaber for a few moments as grief swelled around them. With a sniff, Anakin wiped his eyes with a sleeve before going over to the shelving unit and finding an open shelf where he reverently placed the small cylinder. He stepped back, then adjusted the lightsaber so that it was properly centered.

Obi-Wan's hand was on his shoulder and he said quietly, "I think a potted plant. My master always loved feeling the life around him. I'll see if I can find something on the way back from work."

Anakin nodded. Time to change topic.

"Say Obi-Wan?" he asked, turning. "Where's your braid go?" Anakin had missed it that morning, since whenever he was hugging his new brother, his hands found the braid a good thing to grasp.

Obi-Wan stiffened, a hand going up automatically to his ear. "I... didn't need it any more."

Anakin blinked. "Didn't need it? But what does a braid do?"

Obi-Wan sat down on the floor in front of Anakin. "A braid is a symbol, for a Padawan Learner. It is a measuring of progress. It grows with each year that Master and Apprentice spend learning together, and for each trial that is passed, a bead is added to show the Padawan's success."

"Wizard! Your braid was super-long! You must've been with Qui-Gon forever!" Anakin was faintly jealous of that, but he squashed that feeling mercilessly.

"Since I was thirteen years old."

"Neat! And 'cause you're a Knight now you cut it off?"

"Yes," Obi-Wan glanced away. "There's usually a ceremony, but..." he trailed off.

But the Jedi didn't accept his leaving. That made Anakin angry at the Jedi, but he knew that wouldn't do anything right now. He's promised himself that he'd help Obi-Wan, and getting mad at the Jedi that Obi-Wan still respected wouldn't do anything.

"So will I be getting a braid?" he asked, shifting the focus. "Is my hair even long enough for a braid?" He ran a hand through his short blond locks. "Do you wanna grow a new braid? One for how long the two of us will be together?"

Obi-Wan leaned back, eyebrows raised. "I haven't considered it. We can talk about it more this evening. I really must be getting to work. You can go back to the Palace and keep busy. I'll pick you up after my shift."

Anakin frowned. "And _call_ if you can't?"

"Yes, Padawan," Obi-Wan smiled. "I'll call if I can't make it. Though if I can't, I expect Her Majesty might send someone out to get me."

Anakin giggled.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** Not much to say about this chapter other than set up. If you've ever seen pictures, the apartment it based loosely on a Japanese one-room apartment. They are SMALL. It was really tempting to give them a kotetsu (a low table with a heater underneath to keep people warm) but this is a galaxy far, far away, not a Japan far, far away.

Without the temple batting him over the head, Anakin is free to think of Obi-Wan as whatever he wants, and so he's come to the conclusion of "brother," and he will call him that for the rest of the fic. Obi-Wan's not in a frame of mind yet to correct that yet. While the idea of him being only "a promise" to Obi-Wan is there, it's quickly going to get overwritten as Anakin comes to see just how much Obi-Wan gave up for him, and thus one of the critical problems in their relationship doesn't even start.

More angst with Qui-Gon's lightsaber, but making a shrine seemed appropriate.

**Next chapter:** Survivors.


	5. Chapter 5

**Part Five**

"See disa wall here? It stayed up because of the structure."

"I'm afraid I don't completely understand."

"The weight, deysa distributed evenly across the old ceiling," Augara explained. "And then, all the floorboards deysa all tied together by dis beam here. So when de bombs, deysa come fallin', the buildin' don't shatter like the others."

Obi-Wan studied what Augara pointed out for him. For the last three days the dark brown Gungan had been giving him quite the education on how buildings were made. Obi-Wan had known little more than duracrete walls and transparisteel windows. Now he was learning about structure and weight distribution and electronics and plumbing and this thing called HVAC. It was new and different and complex in ways Obi-Wan would never have expected. He was surprised to learn how much care went into Gungan architecture, how structures were made to a strict collection of rules. "It must be up to Code!" Augara had said, and Obi-Wan was shocked to learn that the word had meaning outside the Jedi.

Theed construction was old, and many of the buildings had been deteriorating long before the bombings even took place. Augara was surprised more buildings hadn't collapsed before the Federation blockade and invasion.

Obi-Wan was also learning to apply his lessons in different ways. Living Force was not his forte, and it had cost him dearly; now he focused his mind to look at the Force around the buildings, trying to ascertain if he could differentiate between the structures that survived and those that didn't, what had worked and what hadn't. It sometimes gave him a headache, reading the Force of inanimate objects was a skill for others like Quinlan, but the memory of his old friend hurt, so fresh was his abandoning the Jedi, that he tried not to focus on it. It also made him redouble his efforts; if he wanted to live as a Jedi without the title, he would have to learn how to apply what he'd learned in the Temple in new and different ways.

Perhaps because he was so focused on the Force, he noticed something. He paused in lifting his boulder, long enough that Augara turned to see what had caught his new friend's attention.

"Obi?"

The former Jedi cocked his head to the side listening. They were on one pile of rubble that had been a three-story building; and he suddenly felt very strongly that he was running out of time. That was the Unifying Force. But also he felt a spark of life, a collection of the Force somewhere, weak and dim. If he weren't focusing on the energy of the structure he would not have realized there was still som-

"Someone's down there!" he cried out, dropping his boulder almost on his foot.

"What? What?" Augara asked, following his friend as Obi-Wan leapt over one of the collapsed walls and shoved aside another worker. Obi-Wan circled slightly, trying to hone in on the signature.

"Here," he said, bending down and holding his hand over the rubble, closing his eyes. "Yes. Here. On the ground floor, someone's still alive down there."

"What?" Augara asked, several other workers gaping.

"The bombings were a week ago today!"

"No one could have survived this!"

"They called off all search and rescue!"

Obi-Wan looked up, standing to his full height. "Nevertheless, I sense a presence down there. We don't have much time. Augara, can we use the larger machines to dig down? Is it structurally safe?"

His eyestalks wide and blinking it took a moment for the dark brown Gungan to realize a question had been asked of him, but he shook himself back and started looking around. "Nosa," he said, energy in his voice. "Disa buildin' took too much damage. The dozers deysa cause all kindsa collapse. If a _Hisen_ down there, then itsa because the structure strong enough to not crushin' the _Hisen_."

"Then we'll do it by hand. Tell the foreman we've found a survivor, the rest of you, help me dig."

"Are you nuts?"

Obi-Wan brought his Jedi firmness to bear. "_Now._" And without waiting he began lifting rocks and boulders and debris. Augara disappeared, believing Obi-Wan, but the others just stared, uncertain what to do.

"What is going on here? You're costing me money!" That was the foreman.

Obi-Wan looked up. "Excellent, do you have a communicator? Contact the security guard and inform them that we've found a survivor and need help; we'll need all the help we can get." He bent down and got back to work, taking a boulder and heaving it aside, preventing it from hitting people with the Force.

"Were you hit on the head or something?" The foreman asked, stepping down to Obi-Wan's level of rubble and grabbing the former Jedi's arm. "There ain't no survivors! Declared the day of the funerals so's everyone could mourn! Rubble can't be just tossed around, it's gotta go in the bins to be shipped off and melted down or slagged, every pound you cost me comes outta _your_ paycheck. I've have a mind to fire your right now and-"

Obi-Wan cut him off. "You can worry about your precious profits later," he absconded, "Right now there is someone alive down there, hanging on by a thread; it is our _duty_ to help them!"

"It is your _duty_ to clear the rubble for new construction!"

Augara interrupted. "Yousa certain? That a _Hisen_ hesa down there?"

"I am a Jedi," Obi-Wan said, working to hold in a growl, "_Yes_ I am certain."

"Okie-day!" Augara said, and hopped down and stared lifting rubble. Obi-Wan gave the foreman one last glare and went back to work, pulling out rocks and boulders and tossing them aside. A few workers went back to work; others joined the two.

Two hours later they were still working. They had broken down one floor, but it seemed the deeper they went the more rubble there was, and breaking through the floors proved the be difficult, the strong structural security that was keeping the person alive was also making it markedly difficult to get down to him or her.

"Hey, hey, quiet, quiet!" someone shouted, and everyone paused in their working.

As the stillness settled into the air, everyone strained their ears, hoping to hear what the worker had heard.

Nothing.

"... if I loose a day's pay for this..." someone muttered.

The doubt would not deter Obi-Wan, however, and he knelt down on the rubble, casting his senses out to the Force, closing his eyes and quieting his mind. He could feel the life force, weak and sputtering. There was so little time, there had to be a way to speed up the process. He slowly touched the mind, trying to assess where the injuries were. He was no good at it though, even now, and so instead he tried to offer strength, reassurance, and hope. He could feel a flicker, perhaps a cough, and a groan.

"I hear that!"

"I did too!"

"Come on, we've got to hurry!"

Obi-Wan had other ideas, however. In this deep level of meditation he could sense his Padawan, and Anakin was percolating with curiosity on why he could sense such hurry in his master. He reached out again, this time to him. If it didn't work, he could get it himself; but he was hesitant to leave the work site.

He felt shock from Anakin as Obi-Wan touched his mind; Obi-Wan, too, was surprised that he could do this after only a few days, but urgency superceded any other emotion.

_Lightsaber. Here. Now._

_Whoa!_ Then, _Coming!_

Excellent.

Obi-Wan returned from his meditation and quickly stood up. "Help is on the way," he told Augara. "My Padawan is coming with something that will make things go much quicker."

"Mm," Augara nodded, his arms full of rubble. "Mesa found weak spot on the floorin'. Wesa might be goin' down that way."

"Very well," Obi-Wan replied, concentrating and sweeping aside some pebbles of destruction away with a wave of his hand. "Show me."

* * *

Anakin was quick to drop the datapad he was working on, much to the handmaiden's startled gasps and a turn of Padme's head, but he dashed off anyway. He heard a startled, "Ani! Where are you going?" from Padme.

He quickly replied, "Obi-Wan needs me!"

And he ran off leaving the Palace staff confused. He ran as fast as his legs could carry him, because Obi-Wan had said _Now_ and that was such an urgency in his mind that it was everything Anakin could do to pace himself even remotely. Twice he had to stop and catch his breath in his mad dash to the one-room apartment. Once he tripped and skid into a basket of something, he heard much shouting behind him but he pressed on, bursting into his apartment building and dashing up the small, narrow stairs; crashing through the door to the apartment and falling to his knees and then rolling to his back, trying to settle his lungs and his heart a third time. Panting, he tried to collect himself, counting dots on the ceiling and mentally reverse engineering a podracing aft engine to give himself the time necessary to be ready to run again.

When he finally had control of his breathing, he rolled back onto his knees and looked up to the open storage shelf, the potted plant, and the lightsaber. Qui-Gon's lightsaber.

"Obi-Wan needs this," he said softly, before snatching it in his hand. It was heavier than he expected, but he paid it no mind as he ran out of the apartment, leaving the door wide open and flying down the narrow stairs and back out into the streets. Obi-Wan said he and his team had been working in the main thoroughfare, where most of the damage had been during the bombings. He needed to cross a bridge to get there, and when he finally got there he tripped again, Qui-Gon's lightsaber falling out of his hands. He gave a startled cry, half running half crawling after it and tossing his hand around it at the last possible second, before it rolled off the bridge and into the tributary below.

"Are you alright, boy?"

Anakin looked up, still panting, at an old woman with a basket of foodstuff at her elbow. Too winded to talk, he only nodded his head.

"You look like the Federation is at your heels; what on earth is the trouble?"

Taking a giant gulp of air, all Anakin could choke out was: "My brother needs me!" before he dashed off again, down an alley he never knew about before and up a road he hadn't traveled yet. His mind was starting to feel like it did in a podrace; his instincts were telling him _left, right, straight, alley, left_ until he surprised himself by bursting out into the main boulevard. He looked all about, trying to find the construction workers.

"Obi-Wan!" he called out. "Where are you?"

* * *

Anakin made the call in his mind as well as his voice, Obi-Wan heard him quite clearly. He stood from lifting another piece of rubble; his muscles strained and sweat streaming down his face. "I'm here, Padawan," he said, projecting the feeling in his mind. He knew when he had time to reflect on this he would be overwhelmed, but first priority was the survivor.

"Obi, wesa can't go farther without somet'in' for the duracrete."

"That is no longer a problem," Obi-Wan said confidently, his eyes bright. Bracing his legs, he leapt the dozen meters up out of the whole that the crew had spent four hours digging and to the top, ignorant of the startled cried and waved his arm. "Anakin!" he called down.

A tiny figure ducked under several workers shouting epitaphs of "no children allowed" and nimbly started climbing the rubble. Half way up the foreman finally got his arms around him, and Anakin struggled at first before looking up. "Obi-Wan!" he shouted, tossing up the lightsaber.

With a quick hum of the Force it flew up to his hand and without a thought he ignited it. The green color shocked him; he was expecting blue. "Master..." he whispered. Qui-Gon was going to help him. "... Thank you."

Spinning he leapt back down into the hole, the workers backing away quickly when they saw the green light. Obi-Wan plunged the blade into the duracrete, the material melting instantly against the heat of the light. Slowly, he spun the blade around in a loose circle, and then used the Force to lift the meter thick, several ton hunk a debris up and away. "Padawan, are you watching with your senses?" he asked, his mind still half on the work.

_Wow yeah!_ was the reply.

The edges of the duracrete were still superheated, but Obi-Wan paid it no mind as he leapt down the hole he had just created to the darkness below. The green light cast long shadows everywhere, but he didn't need to see to know where the survivor was, her presence drew him to her. He stepped carefully; though they were on the ground floor he did not know how strong the structure over his head was and he dared not remove his focus from the survivor.

Her face was covered in blood and she was pinned under an ornate table. Obi-Wan swept it aside with a gesture and knelt down, assessing the damage. It was serious, a miracle that she was still alive to begin with, and he knew that this was going to be difficult. Stepping back to the shaft of light that was his exit he looked up to Augara's silhouette. "I need water and rope! I'll have to improvise a stretcher."

"Yesa!"

With Qui-Gon's lightsaber he cut the legs of the table off, using it as a base as he carefully lifted the survivor with the Force and put her down on it. Holding the green light over his head he pulled at her eyelids, trying to assess what he could.

"Obi-Wan! I got the stuff you wanted."

"Anakin?"

"The others were afraid they'd get burned on the edges," he said quickly, "I told them it was safe but they wouldn't listen to me 'cause I'm a kid. Here. What do we do?"

Obi-Wan closed his eyes for a moment, his emotions threatening to break out. He hadn't even thought when he'd asked for Qui-Gon's lightsaber, and the memories were starting to flood him. Anakin shockingly being able to answer him from such a distance and carry out his orders caused all sorts of feelings and concerns and worries as well. That he was _here_ in a structurally unsafe _building_ worried him to no end, and he hadn't thought of _that_ either when he'd called for his Padawan. His mistakes seemed to keep piling up but he didn't have _time_ for it and so he cast it all aside, focusing on the immediate need of the woman.

"She has several broken bones, and so we need to tie them down and support them so they aren't further damaged when we bring her up."

"Okay," Anakin said, nodding. "How do we do that?"

Obi-Wan gave a very quick and dirty run-down of field medicine that he knew of, and the two slowly scavenged for items that could be used as splints and other needs. Obi-Wan showed Anakin how to give water to an injured person, and used the rest to clean the wounds he could see. He also told Anakin to cast his feelings out over the woman to see what injuries he could see and what he could sense. When she was stabilized as much as they could be, they gently and slowly carried her over to the shaft of light. Obi-Wan was surprised to how much time they had spent in the gloom with only Qui-Gon's lightsaber to illuminate. He was watching over them, Obi-Wan liked to think; he could almost feel the pride, but he knew that was only delusion and cast it aside.

"Alright; Anakin, you're up first."

"But-"

"You don't know how to do this yet, it would be best if you are up there to catch her if something happened."

"... Okay..."

Anakin jumped up and Obi-Wan lifted him up with the Force. Blast he was exhausted, but he shook that off as well and concentrated on the survivor strapped to her table, once her prison and now her stability. He floated her up slowly; mindful of the edges of the hole he'd cut and waited until he sensed hand wrapping around the edge of the table. Once the way was clear, he clipped his master's lightsaber to his belt and leapt up.

He was surprised to hear cheers, to feel claps on his back and hands gripping his to shake it. He didn't quite understand what was happening, there were so many smiles and cat-calls and whistles, people were all talking over each other, the noise indiscriminate. Anakin was here, the dirt from below smeared everywhere; Obi-Wan could only imagine how he looked in turn, but he had the brightest of smiles on his face.

"The woman?" he tried to ask. "How is she...?"

"The medics came right up and took her," Anakin said. "Everybody was shouting and cheering even louder than they are now; they're really happy! There's even a news crew here! We're all gonna be famous!"

... Famous?

"... Whatever for?" Obi-Wan asked, utterly confused.

" 'What for?' hesa says," Augara said, sliding up to the pair. "Yousa savin' someone! What else was there?"

"But... I didn't..."

"Sir!" someone shouted and suddenly there was a floating camera in his face and a microphone of some kind. "How did you know there was a survivor there?"

"How do feel knowing you've just saved someone's life?"

"Are there any other survivors at such a late date?"

"What do you do for a living?"

"Why didn't anyone find her sooner?"

Obi-Wan stared, openly stared, as it finally began to dawn on him that all the attention was on him. Heat rose up to his face and he found himself speechless. A confused stutter fell out of his mouth, and that only spurred even more questions. He found himself taking an involuntary step back.

Anakin, however, did not seem nearly so deterred by the crowd. "His name is Obi-Wan Kenobi," he said brightly. "He was a Jedi and that's how he knew that there was a survivor. My name's Anakin Skywalker and I'm his Padawan and soon I'm gonna be able to do that cool stuff, too!"

The entire crowd seemed to shriek as one and Obi-Wan backed up even further, almost falling back into the building.

"Master," he whispered, "How am I going to get through _this_?"

* * *

**Author's Notes:** When in doubt, Obi-Wan, ignore the press. That usually helps.

Obi-Wan, as stated in wookiepedia, goes through a "long period of self doubt." This fic takes place during all that self-doubt, but we felt it absolutely necessary for hints of "Master Obi-Wan" to peek through. He's a Jedi, with or without the title, and when the situation needs him he will act like a Jedi, whether he realizes it or not. We also felt it important that he still work on his training. Jedi spend their entire lives learning, and Obi-Wan knows exactly where his deficiencies are, and his high expectations demand that they work on him.

It was also nice to see "The Team" in action. Just a shadow of what they could someday be.

We're not construction experts by any stretch of the word - our home improvement projects are usually home improvement disasters, but there's this one Canadian TV show we've become quite enamored with, "Holmes and Homes." It's insanely educational (whether it's intended or not) on building codes and house structures and a lot of terminology, so we thought it only right to drop hints of it where we could.

**Next chapter:** The underappreciated Social Worker. And the underappreciated Education system.


	6. Chapter 6

**Part Six**

Shamde Olie politely knocked on the door of a one-room apartment that belonged to the newest residents of Naboo. When the Queen had personally called her, she had been honored and when she learned that she was to help settle in two great heroes, she'd been shocked. Her Majesty had a great deal to say about this young Obi-Wan Kenobi's situation, along with Anakin Skywalker. And, despite the Queen's dry recital of facts, there was no denying the underlying opinion that her Majesty had about the Jedi and what they'd done to the pair.

Shamde brushed that aside however. The reason why she succeeded as a social worker was because she listened to what the family had to say. Not what others believed, and she'd been doing social work for a very long time.

The door was opened by a blond boy that Shamde smiled at. "Hello," she greeted. "You must be Anakin Skywalker."

"Yup! You the social worker Padme, er, Her Majesty said would be coming?"

Shamde smiled. "Yes."

"Not a reporter in disguise?"

She laughed outright. Obi-Wan's rescue the previous day was certainly the talk of the planet. Though Nabooan reporters didn't usually dig through a citizen's personal life the way the paparazzi of Coruscant might, she doubted that either of these two knew that.

"Would you like to see my credentials?" she asked.

Anakin shrugged. "Obi-Wan's at the market. Just needs something for whatever that good smell is."

Shamde did indeed smell something good coming from the tiny kitchenette of the apartment. "Well that will give us a chance to talk."

"Okay, come on in. If Pad- er, Her Majesty trusts you that's good enough for me."

Anakin brought her in, took her coat and seated her at the table like a mini-gentleman. A kettle had evidently been warmed and he brought it over with a set of three cups. "So how's this go? How do I help Obi-Wan get us all settled in and stuff?"

She sipped her tea and sat back. "We'll get to that 'stuff' when Obi-Wan arrives. For now, I just want to talk."

"Okay. 'Bout what?"

Shamde smiled. Children were always the most informative. "How things got to be the way they are," she replied, because all the help would be meaningless if she didn't understand where they were coming from.

The next ten minutes was Anakin excitedly talking about the adventure he'd been on to come to arrive at Naboo. Though Shamde had been preparing herself for it, given what Queen Amidala had said, her heart was still aching as young Anakin talked so freely about what it was like to be a slave. The fact that his mother was still a slave was a cause for worry ("Mister Qui-Gon did everything he could to free her! Watto wouldn't allow it, the _dopa maskey koochoo_!") The fact that this bright youngling could touch the Force was something that Shamde would have to research ("It's really wizard! I haven't even found the word in Basic for it! Some strange cross between connected and incredible and alive and big and small and..."), especially since the Jedi spent a lifetime learning it and this Obi-Wan would be teaching Anakin about it. The question was when. And how. ("We do stances and kata and forms and stuff! It's all based on using a lightsaber. I wonder when I'll get my own. Obi-Wan lost his facing that monster and I don't think either of us like using Mister Qui-Gon's 'less it's an emergency like yesterday.") But her primary goal for this meeting, aside from information gathering, was to ensure that they at least had some basics taken care of.

They clearly had a place to stay, already well taken care of. Though having only been here for under a week, there was still a vague sense of home in the room with a few plants and neat clutter of Anakin's tinkerings. Food didn't seem to be a problem yet, given that wonderful smell from the kitchenette. Obi-Wan's job would be steady and that gave them a solid foundation to work with. She was going to have to start explaining various programs available if their income didn't match expenditures. Possibly ram it down their throats, if the Queen's information was correct. Anakin needed to get enrolled in school (Her Majesty had several suggestions) and the legal guardianship needed to be finalized.

Shamde, born and raised on Naboo, didn't quite understand about this decision of Obi-Wan's to be a legal guardian instead of just adopting. When she carefully brought up the subject to Anakin, the boy just smiled.

"He's not used to the idea of being my brother yet. He thinks he'd just be trying to replace my mom and he doesn't want to do that. He won't ever replace her, but he doesn't get that yet." Anakin looked around conspiratorially. "He's my new project!" he confided. "He doesn't know much about family so I'm going to turn him into the best big brother anyone could ever have!"

Shamde couldn't quite help chuckling at that.

Anakin suddenly straightened. "Olie? Like Ric Olie? The guy who taught me some of how a Nubian starcraft works?"

"Yes, he's my cousin. He's spoken very highly of you and how you're such a good student."

"Wizard!"

"Hello there," came a new voice. Shamde turned with a pleasant smile and suddenly found herself wishing she was ten or fifteen years younger and not married. Aaah, to dream.

"Hello yourself," she replied, standing. "I am Shamde Olie. I'm the social worker that Queen Amidala has sent to make sure you settle in well here on our peaceful planet of Naboo."

Obi-Wan gave a small bow. "Welcome. I'll be with you in just a moment." Anakin immediately went over to help with the small bag of groceries, a system between them already in place to divide chores, it seemed, as they wordlessly set about taking care of the food.

Interesting.

Not even roommates could agree on such division of chores that fast. Something to think about.

Obi-Wan easily slid back to the cooking unit, stirring the pots that were producing such mouth-watering scents. "I'll admit," he said, turning to her, "I'm uncertain what you can do for us. We have things under control. I've been looking at schools for Anakin and he and I have been discussing the pros and cons of each one. We have our starting point."

Oh, he was going to be one of _those_. The kind that always thought they had everything under control. The kind that didn't ask for help. Shamde had her work cut out for her. She absently wondered if there was a frying pan handy to knock some sense into him before some sort of problem occurred and shattered his confidence.

But she was a professional and let none of that show. Instead, she smiled brightly. "Have you gotten the paperwork yet to become Anakin's legal guardian?"

"No. I haven't had the chance. I've been working an extra shift to make sure we have enough credits for the front-end purchases we need."

"Well it's a good thing I'm here then. I can also take care of enrolling Anakin, once we've decided on a school, especially since you _do_ need to worry about all these front-end purchases."

Obi-Wan glanced away, ostensibly to start dishing out that divine-smelling soup. "I don't want to impose-"

"It's my job."

"Only because the Queen insisted."

"Only 'cause Padme's nice," Anakin corrected, bringing each full bowl to the table.

Obi-Wan frowned, but let the subject drop.

"Now normally, Mister Kenobi, I'd ask you to send Anakin to a different room so I could talk to you one-on-one, but..."

All three glanced at the small room they were in. Obi-Wan blushed. "Well, I..."

"I congratulate you on getting accommodations so quickly and that are quite nice. Theed is an expensive city to live in and if you'd gotten a place with more rooms, it might have had several issues that were unsafe."

Obi-Wan glanced away.

"Now, let's talk about schools."

They sat around the tiny table, Obi-Wan generously feeding her with the delicious soup, despite her polite rebuttals of her husband's good cooking awaiting her. While all the schools they were looking at had a good general education of core subjects, there was some debate on special classes.

"I'm a pilot! I should have classes to help me be better!"

Though Obi-Wan agreed to play to Anakin's strengths, he steadfastly wanted a school with good classes on diplomacy. "A Jedi avoids conflict. You'll need classes where you can learn to talk your way out of a conflict or help others reach a middle ground."

When Shamde suggested a good school that turned out both politicians and security forces alike, Obi-Wan frowned horribly. From the questions she asked, she gathered that he really didn't care for politicians. As a Jedi working to the whims of the Senate, Shamde could imagine where his prejudice came from. They finally all agreed on a piloting school that had a strong set of classes in diplomacy, since their pilots tended to be more for envoys rather than fighters.

"I'll handle the filework for this, especially since you haven't gotten your papers yet for your guardianship."

Obi-Wan nodded and both he and Anakin escorted her to the door.

"Mister Kenobi," she said, turning around. "I realize that you're taking Anakin as your ward. I'm sure you have your reasons why. And, as a Jedi, I have no doubt that you have a strong moral fiber especially towards honesty. However take my advice. Just refer to Anakin as your brother. One you didn't know you had until your father passed away. From my understanding, this is true from a certain point of view. It will go a long way to making people accept you more easily. Otherwise they'll ask a lot of pointless questions that will dredge up things you likely don't want to talk about."

Obi-Wan looked distinctly uncomfortable, and Shamde resolved to make sure to corner him and speak to him privately on the way home from work some day.

"I'd also advice you to look into grief counseling, once you've established a routine."

"I am a Jedi. I release my feelings to the Force."

Shamde shook her head. "Maybe. But I'm sure in your Order you had someone to go to if you struggled. You'll need a support network here as well. At the Temple, it was your Order. Here, it's usually friends and family. But a lot of us are grieving and don't know how to handle it after the occupation. You won't be alone in needing help with your grief."

Obi-Wan shook his head. "I thank you for your consideration. But I will be fine."

Oh yes. Definitely the type to need a frying pan to the head.

Sighing she said her good-byes and left.

* * *

Anakin shifted nervously. This was... different than anything he'd been a part of before. It was making him anxious. He was extremely grateful that he and Obi-Wan had done their kata and forms that morning. In fact, he was getting to like doing them at dawn and the work they did to coax their bond to grow. It was invigorating and soothing at the same time. (Though he still preferred sleeping in...) Obi-Wan told him he was a quick learner and Anakin worked hard to make sure it stayed that way, especially since Obi-Wan was now working two shifts and didn't have as much time with him. Anakin made sure to be there during Obi-Wan's lunch break and there for when his first shift ended so they could walk home together. Then came some intensive study (and dinner. Who knew Obi-Wan was a decent cook?) before they sat down to meditate, Anakin's least favorite time of the day. Once Anakin was in bed, Obi-Wan headed off to his second shift, which was shorter, but meant that Obi-Wan averaged only five hours of sleep a night.

Anakin was envious of how alert Obi-Wan always seemed to be despite all of that. But today was different. Obi-Wan had taken the morning off of work for this, after the two of them poured over their finances to see if they could afford it. So after their morning exercise, they'd showered and cleaned up nicely and come to the school that they both agreed would likely be best for Anakin. Shamde had met them there and set about introductions and Anakin had started to get antsy.

All his life, he'd never been in such a... formal meeting. He'd met with other podracers, slaves, customers, people at the market, all sorts in different situations. But this was dressing to impress, sitting down at a conference table and asking the people across from him if he could be allowed to come here.

It brought up all his insecurities. Anakin was just a _slave_, and despite how hard he worked at everything he did, nobody back on Tatooine ever really saw him as anything else aside from his mother, Qui-Gon and other slaves. He didn't know the first thing on how to impress these stiff-looking people. They might as well have been speaking another language for all he understood their customs. Obi-Wan understood this so much better than him, but Obi-Wan was a Jedi and had been _taught_ this kinda stuff. Anakin hadn't and neither of them had thought to go over with him what to do for this. His mother had tried to drill manners into his thick skull, and Obi-Wan had clearly picked up the drill, but all Anakin could really think of that would be appropriate at this moment would be to sit still and shut up.

He squirmed again, completely uncomfortable and uncertain.

Obi-Wan saw this out of the corner of his eye before he reached out, hesitated, and put his arm around him. Anakin let some of his tension ease off. His new brother was there for him. Obi-Wan was clearly clueless on some of the things that brothers did, but he was putting forth the effort, so Anakin had to match that.

_Be calm!_ he told himself. Obi-Wan said that Jedi always handled things calmly and thoughtfully and if he let his insecurities overwhelm him, he wouldn't be able to do anything.

Pushing them aside, however, was a monumental task.

There was a faint tingle in the back of his mind and Anakin automatically looked up to Obi-Wan. His brother wasn't looking at him, just smiling at the people in front of them and it dawned on Anakin that Obi-Wan just did something to the bond. He closed his eyes, tuned out his surroundings with the same ease he did when tuning out Watto's badgering, and felt something coming from the bond. It was... Anakin wasn't sure what Obi-Wan was trying to send, but it was warm, hesitant, and made him smile. Anakin focused on that feeling of smiling and tried to stuff it into the bond. For some reason, this was more difficult than when Obi-Wan had called for him to help save that lady trapped in the rubble, but Obi-Wan had explained to him that there was some deep meditation going on at the time, mostly on his brother's part, that had likely made it easier.

"Mr. Kenobi," the principal Arani Kim said, leaning forward. She was seventeen, a clear example of someone that Naboo considered an adult due to emotional maturity, much like with Padme. "If you don't mind, I do have some questions before we get started."

"That's quite understandable," Obi-Wan nodded. "I'm afraid the two of us are rather unusual and I completely understand that you might want to iron out a few details before proceeding."

Clearly Obi-Wan was going to be handling this complex-speech stuff. Anakin was ever so grateful for that.

"Our first concern is that you don't have an ID chip for young Anakin here. In fact, your records show that you've only just attained legal guardianship, not adoption."

Shamde smiled firmly. "I believe I gave you a supplemental in regards to the special circumstances involved."

"Yes," Arani said, "quite extraordinary circumstances."

"Documented circumstances," Obi-Wan replied. "I understand that my meeting Anakin and becoming in charge of him has been unusual. But he _is_ my responsibility. Milady Olie has informed me that Anakin's ID chip is in the middle of being verified. I wanted to ensure he started his education, especially since it has been so haphazard up to this point. I assure you that his is a very bright youngling and quite eager to learn."

Anakin nodded enthusiastically. "Uh-huh! Slaves weren't allowed much education beyond reading and writing. Sometimes numbers and stuff depending what your jobs were."

Arani looked to Anakin, her expression softening from firm to sympathetic. "You really were a slave?" she asked quietly.

Anakin shrugged. "My old ID chip was buried in my body and set to explode if I left bounds. Or if Watto ever got really mad, he had a control to do the same thing. I like the idea of having an ID chip that I can carry outside of me."

The principal looked away for a moment, as people usually did when Anakin talked so frankly about being a slave. Anakin frowned. "I'm a _person_. So what if I was a slave?"

"Anakin," Obi-Wan said quietly, yet in that firm voice that Anakin was coming to know meant he was pushing it. Since his brother was the better choice for handling this meeting, Anakin sat back, red-faced and embarrassed that he let his mouth run off again when he'd _promised_ himself that he'd be good and just sit still and shut up.

Arani wiped her eyes briefly before looking up with a professional smile. "And your father left you there in slavery?" she asked.

Obi-Wan froze. He always did whenever Qui-Gon was mentioned, even indirectly. Anakin didn't blame him. There were times when something reminded him of his mom and he just froze up with worry about her.

"He..." Obi-Wan worked to swallow and said, "He didn't know about Anakin. Not until we arrived on Tatooine. Once he met Anakin and realized... he did everything he could to free him and his mother."

"I have the supplemental material that Ms. Olie provided," Arani replied. "I realize that this must be hard on you. Discovering you have a brother and then losing your father in almost the same week."

Anakin frowned. He wanted to be quiet and let Obi-Wan handle things because Anakin was sure he'd mess it up somehow. But this principal was talking like he wasn't even there.

Arani sat back, glancing down to her datapad again. "I assume that immunizations are also on the way."

Obi-Wan and Anakin both stumbled. "Immunizations?" they asked simultaneously.

Shamde slid a datachip across the table. "Here they are."

As one, Obi-Wan and Anakin both turned to their social worker. "They are?"

She smiled sweetly. "Yes. While you've been at work, Obi-Wan, Anakin's been tested for placement _and_ he had a good check-up, complete with immunizations. He's doing just fine."

"Trust Her Majesty to take care of all the little things," Obi-Wan muttered. "Despite the fact that Force-sensitives don't get sick easily."

"Very well," Arani took the chip. "Everything is in order and Anakin can start school at the beginning of the week. All we need to do is set up a class schedule for him." She slid forward a datapad. "Here's a list of the classes we offer. The placement testing provided will set you up well in your general courses, but you should choose some electives."

Anakin glanced through the list. "Whaddya got for mechanics and piloting?"

Arani smiled. "We have some good introductory-"

"I don't need introductory! I built my own podracer and won the Boonta Eve back on Tatooine! I'm the only Human to _ever_ win!"

"Padawan," Obi-Wan interjected. "What have I told you about boasting?"

Anakin turned, "But..!"

Obi-Wan put a hand on his shoulder. "Anakin, you have a right to be proud of your accomplishments. But shouting about them, telling anyone you meet, can lead to a type of pride that will do more harm than good in the long run."

"But she's not just someone on the street!" Anakin protested. "They're going to teach me here, so they _need_ to know what I can do!"

"You are correct. But _how_ you say something is as important as _what_ you say." Obi-Wan pulled away, but smiled encouragingly. "Could you explain to our esteemed principal why beginning classes are well below your skill level in a more factual and polite manner?"

Anakin scowled, embarrassed at getting talked to like this in front of others, but turned to do as told. With a deep breath he started to explain the tasks and assignments that he did for Watto, his extensive work with engines, droids, and mechanical repair, before he started talking about podracing and getting excited again. Obi-Wan didn't call him on his passion for racing, and Anakin made sure not to mention his win so proudly, instead focusing on scrounging up parts for building a podracer from essentially junk.

Arani nodded, taking notes throughout. Once Anakin was done, she took the datapad from them and scrolled down to some classes before passing it back. "You have extensive knowledge of machinery, but only piloting one or two types of craft. I'd recommend our advanced piloting class. Anakin would be with students aged six to around fourteen, many of whom will get plucked into the Security Forces fighter pilots. As Anakin advances, we can look at other courses to expand his knowledge base."

Obi-Wan turned to Anakin. "Is that acceptable for you?"

Anakin nodded, glad that Obi-Wan wasn't just going to decide for him like this principal seemed inclined to do.

"Very good," Arani noted the course. "Any other electives?"

"Diplomacy," Obi-Wan replied, scanning down the electives. "All types. Negotiations with hard powers, soft powers, informal diplomacy, paradiplomacy, cultural diplomacy, small state diplomacy, citizen diplomacy, mediations and how to conduct them." His new brother glanced at him. "Did you ever try to act as a go-between if any of your friends back on Tatooine were angry with each other? Or if another group of younglings had issues with you and your friends?"

Anakin thought back. "My friends and I didn't really argue or disagree much. Our owners would keep us too busy for any disagreement to get too far. And if Greedo and his gang started making trouble we always finished it."

"Did you ever need to speak to Watto on behalf of your mother?"

"Not really. He told us what to do and we did it. There wasn't much choice for that."

"So you don't have much experience looking at many sides of a problem and finding a solution?"

Anakin shrugged, sort of embarrassed that he didn't. "Not really," he mumbled, looking down. "...sorry for the trouble..."

Obi-Wan hesitated again in putting a hand on his shoulder, though not as long as the previous time. "I'd say this is a good thing, Padawan," he said gently. "It gives you a clean start and we don't have to worry about any unlearning of bad examples."

Arani was scrolling through the electives. "We do have some good introductory classes, but nothing that quite covers the degree of diplomacy you're looking for," she said. "I'd suggest our introductory class and a second class for mediation that's for students looking to go into professional law or mediation."

Obi-Wan nodded, "That will be fine." _I'll handle the rest..._

Anakin blinked, not expecting to hear something so clearly, especially since neither of them were in "deep meditation" like Obi-Wan had been before. He glanced at his new brother, but Obi-Wan seemed unaware that Anakin had heard anything at all.

"Excellent," the principal smiled. "We can go on a tour, if you'd like."

"That sounds excellent."

Anakin was about to agree, before he noticed the time. "No way! Obi-Wan! You need to get to work!"

Obi-Wan looked down to him. "But this is impor-"

"It's important for me to know my way around, it's important for _you_ to make sure we have food on the table! That foreman guys is a total _gaggalak mursto_!" The stupid jerk docked Obi-Wan his pay that one time for not hauling any debris because his new brother was too busy _saving a person_. "I don't want him to overwork you like Watto used to when things didn't go his way and then not pay you!"

Obi-Wan blinked, as did the Shamde and the young principal lady, but while the girls looked away Obi-Wan's eyes seemed to soften a little. This time, the hand that reached for his shoulder was much quicker to respond and he held Anakin's eyes for several moments. "I can earnestly tell you that I doubt such a situation will befall me, but in deference to your sense of urgency I will leave." He stood up, everyone else slow to follow suit. "However," he added, "I expected a fully formed picture in your mind so that you can give _me_ the tour when we meditate tonight."

Anakin blinked briefly, mentally working through the translations of Obi-speak to normal-speak.

"... Does _everything_ have to be a homework assignment with you?" Anakin demanded.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** We have a friend who majored in social work, and very simply put: if you ever find yourself in need of one, use them. These are some of the most helpful people in the world and in our opinion they are unsung heroes. I wish we could say more on the subject, but our friend is the only social worker we know.

Education, we could write novels on. In fact, we wrote a long Naruto fic called _Team Time_ to show how education really works. Teachers do a lot that the average person doesn't see and, like social workers, are unsung heroes. We teachers have a tremendous influence over a child's life, and we work hard to ensure it's positive, even if it's just creating boundaries for kids to live in.

Anyway. We played the real life joke on Obi-Wan again. Did any of you ever think about immunizations when you were kids?

We picture Anakin as a student and are slightly terrified. He's the one that teachers will talk about in the faculty room, and it will be no different here. We feel sorry for his teachers, and we feel sorry for Obi-Wan when he has to deal with it.

Of course. looking up Huttese on wookiepedia to find insults for Ani to throw around was quite fun. ^_^

**Next chapter**: A few months go by and Padme realizes there might be trouble brewing.


	7. Chapter 7

**Part Seven**

"Home, sweet home," Padme murmured, washing the facepaint off and into a bin of water. She ran wet fingers through her hair, finally loose and no longer piled up in ornate and often heavy headdresses. It was well past midnight when she had finally arrived, and utterly exhausted she simply wanted to fall into bed. That was not to be, however, the work of a queen was never done, and even with handmaidens and impersonators she could only spread the work around so much.

She had spent the last six months traveling the planet. It was both the most rewarding and the most frustrating experience she had ever encountered - and that included butting heads with the hero Qui-Gon Jinn about security.

Sighing, she looked in the mirror as the thought of the fallen hero brought up thoughts of two more. She wondered how young Ani and Obi-Wan were doing; but even a pet project like that had to be put on hold as duty overrode her wants.

The planet was a mess. No, she corrected herself, the _cities_ were a mess, and certain locations of the backcountry were a mess. The people, they were a _wreck_, occupation caused call kinds of psychological problems and post traumatic stress and opportunities for scam artists and swindlers. Traveling crisscross around the planet, she had connected to her people as never before, she had felt overwhelming sense of reward for her time spent in the old concentration camps, walking amongst the refugee camps, talking to the people, asking what they needed, trying to ascertain what cities suffered the most damage.

The fruit and wheat fields had been razed, the earth dozed and upturned for bases of droid factories, making crop for the year a joke. They may have imported a lot of food; but their major exports of grains and wine... the vineyards! Padme shuddered at how some of the most beautiful plantations on the planet had been scoured and barrels that were hundreds of years old upturned and dumped so callously - were going to be next to nill. Their quarter reports showed that the export market value for their products had already plummeted. Their plasma stores had been utterly raped, every scrap of natural gas that emitted from the swamps and certain plants from the forests harvested and shuffled off to who-knew-where, leaving their three major sources of income confiscated or null. Their other exports, art and architecture and cultural bits, those that weren't destroyed had to be rebuilt; and the mind of an artist was always greatly affected by their mood, and the people were still grieving the tragedy that had occurred.

Padme rubbed her forehead, the next few years would be unbearably hard, until the now became the past, the pain became a memory. She wondered how she could somehow jump-start the process; what policy could she introduce, what initiative she could start, that would get her beloved people up and moving again. Sitting at her desk, she powered up a datapad and tried to generate ideas. In proof, she wanted another survivor found. The media frenzy that had occurred after Obi-Wan had found that survivor had been phenomenal; people cheered and applauded the survivor and tracked her recovery avidly. It gave them hope, and Padme had seen a surge of relief in her people. It had quickly faded, however, as numbers were finally crunched and the amount of destruction became more widely known.

Sio Bibble knocked politely on the door before entering. He, too, it appeared, was up late trying to get work done. That was her one regret during all of her travels, it was _incredibly_ hard to get work done when you were in a different city or town every morning; talking to people - however rewarding - often took more than time that was allotted and kept her from her advisory committee.

Looking up to her trusted advisor, she gave a weary smile. "Please tell me you are here to give me good news."

His returning smile was just as weary as hers. "Only half," he said sadly, stepping further into the room and sinking himself into a chair. "I'm getting too old for this," he murmured. "An old man needs his sleep."

"Says the former professor that loved spending all-nighters with his students debating philosophy," Padme said in a wry tone, leaning away from her datapad. She ran her fingers through her loose hair again, sighing. "I take it you finally heard from Coruscant?"

"Yes," her advisor said. "Palpatine has been making some very pretty speeches; he's a gifted orator, Your Majesty. He's managed to garner enough support in the Senate to send a relief committee; they'll be here in a few weeks I expect with foodstuffs and supplies." He rubbed his chin. "As well as a bill, no doubt, but some of the other senators have been very generous."

"Yes," Padme said, stretching. "Alderaan sent a blank check to our treasury a few days ago. I contacted the Organas, but they said that so long as they see a record of what every credit is spent on then we can use it any way we need. I think I want to put it into financing some kind of memorial here in Theed. The architects are being swindled left and right, and if _we_ finance it rather than some off-planet corporation looking to take advantage of us, we might be able to funnel the money back into the economy."

"It's a sound idea," Sio said. "A plaza, perhaps, or a courtyard."

"Something when you enter the city," Padme added.

"If we're talking construction, then we may need to create an actual spaceport," Sio said. "With all the supplies the Senate will be sending and the increased migration of workers looking for opportunity in all the rubble, the RSF hangar is simply overcrowded."

Padme groaned. "Something else to think about."

"Boss Nass also wants a meeting with you; he says he has an excellent idea that will foster Human-Gungan relations, generate employment, and create a symbol. Of what he wouldn't say."

Padme nodded slightly. She had already had many meetings with the Gungan leader; his gruff and sometimes outright brutish behavior aside, he actually had a very keen mind and some bright ideas. Sio couldn't stand him, though, and was often left arguing over decorum and propriety when the two were in the same room. Padme decided to take that meeting privately; either that of have a handmaiden. No, he deserved her personal appearance.

"And now the bad news," Sio said, his entire face reddening as the thought even occurred to him.

"Let me guess: Nute Gunray's trial."

"Already it's been half a year, and now it's going to be delayed _another_ six months! The courts are more than dragging their heels, they've about ground to a halt. The excuses they are giving are ludicrous; they even said they were unable to locate the Jedi involved! We've already messaged them the death of Qui-Gon Jinn, but still they say that the Temple are withholding the parties necessary to start the trial. Either that or some motion was passed that due process was not being observed; or that some particular right when arresting Gunray was ignored! It's intolerable Your Majesty! Intolerable!"

Padme frowned, sensing her problems were about to become even more complicated. "Is it possible they are thinking of Knight Kenobi as well as Master Jinn?" she asked slowly.

Sio paused in his protestations, the question making him think. "It is possible," he said slowly, rubbing his white beard, "but they also know that young Kenobi is a citizen of Naboo, now; or at least they should. I can resend the information; but it's pure illusion, all they are doing is delaying the inevitable."

"It may also be a larger problem down the line," Padme whispered to herself as a terrible thought occurred to her.

"Problem? Why?"

"They may try to discredit him over the course of the trial."

"Why on earth would they do that?"

"Because he is no longer a Jedi," Padme answered, crossing her legs in her chair.

"What has one to do with the other?"

Padme looked up. "How many Jedi to _you_ know that have left the Order?" Sio shrugged his shoulders, and Padme continued. "I hardly know all the details, but I fear they will use that event to paint Knight Kenobi as incompetent and his word not to be taken seriously."

"That's outrageous! I've read his reports, no one could possibly-"

"I can only hope you are right," Padme said, rubbing her forehead. "Ooh, I hope you are right."

Sio frowned slightly, looking at his queen, before slowly gathering the leverage to lift himself out of his chair. "It's late, Your Majesty," he said gently. "I'll cancel your first three appointments of the morning; that should give you a few more hours sleep. Then I'll assemble the advisory committee and we can talk about something more productive."

Padme looked up, smiling weakly. "Thank you, Sio," she said.

"Your Majesty, I must confess I loathed the idea of one so young taking the throne," Sio said softly, offering his hand to help her up. "Leadership on this scale needs experience as well as maturity and intelligence, but you just keep surprising me. It rather makes me feel young again. I think it only fair that I do what I can to keep you alive to surprise me some more, and Panaka would have my head if I let you die from lack of sleep."

Padme's smile grew more, and she took Sio's hand.

She wouldn't be sleeping late, however. She'd be meeting with Shamde Orlie.

* * *

"Rent!"

Shamde blinked as a bent over old man dashed up to her, hand waving in front of her nose. "Rent was two days ago! Pay up or get out!"

The social worker blinked. "... Excuse me?" she asked slowly.

The bald man looked up over his hunched shoulders, squinting at her. "Oh," he muttered. "You're not her. I got no business with you if you ain't a tenant. Get out." He turned around and walked back down the narrow hall he had come. Shamde was halfway up the stairs to the floor she desired when she heard the building's doors open again, and heard the old man start pounding down the hall. "Reeeent!" filtering up to her ears.

She finally reached the right room and was about to politely knock when the door swung open. "Come on in, Shamde!" little Anakin said brightly, gesturing that she follow him. "Wow!" he said. "It really _was_ you! I didn't think it'd actually work!"

"That what would actually work?" she asked politely.

"That Force signature thing that Obi-Wan taught me!" Anakin happily explained. "He said that everyone had a unique Force signature and that after a while I'd be able to recognize people before they ever came in. He showed me how to do it but there weren't that many people to practice on because nobody comes to visit us because all of Obi-Wan's friends are busy at work and all the other kids at school said the place I was living in was a dump which is true but I didn't like them saying it so I didn't invite them over. Then I was practicing one of the kata Obi-Wan showed me from this morning and I heard Old Man Jafan trying to get rent from the lady downstairs but it didn't feel like her and when I realized _that_ I wondered who it _did_ feel like and then I realized it was you! That was really Wizard!"

That made utterly no sense, but then Shamde had learned very quickly over the last six months that Jedi teachings were going to fly right over her head. She sat down gingerly to the table in deference of the mountain of things that were covering it: books and datapads and diagrams of... spacecraft if Shamde recognized the design. There was also a half-empty plate of something that was clearly not Obi-Wan's cooking if the smell was any indication and a cup of blue liquid.

"How do you manage to put this all away to sleep at night?" she asked, trying to imagine what the evenings looked like.

"Oh, most of it's put away by suppertime," Anakin said, waving the question off. "A lot of it is schoolwork and I can throw it in my bag, the rest all goes in the closet or the corner. We don't need that much room anyway, after meditating people sleep very still, Obi-Wan said, and we don't take up much room. It's kinda wizard, really, because Obi-Wan sleeps next to me every night when he gets back and that's why better than when I slept alone on the way to Coruscant or coming here. I had the worst nightmares then, but they all go away when Obi-Wan's next to me. I wonder if it's his Force presence, but I don't know enough yet to know how to ask."

Yep, over her head again. But, at least, she understood that Anakin was settling in well enough. She had expected as much, children always seemed to bounce back quicker than adults. The social worker gave a cursory glance over the work on the table. "So how is schoolwork going?"

"Oh, this isn't that," Anakin said. "But school's okay. Some of the kids there are really stupid and mean, they say awful stuff about us living here and about me being a slave. I try to ignore them for the most part 'cause I know they're just really stupid and if I keep my head down I won't get in trouble. It's kinda like working for Watto, you stay under the radar and when you can't you just don't show any fear. I never thought the whole slave thing would ever be useful."

Shamde didn't completely know what to make of that, except perhaps Anakin was using previous experiences to adjust and assimilate new experiences. After the thrill of attention and being bought and saving all of Naboo, a healthy dose of ego was likely natural, and something Anakin would grow out of like all other boys. Nodding at the thought, she pointed to the blueprints. "Then what's this?" she asked.

"Oh, this is Obi-Wan," Anakin said, his face suddenly becoming very bright. "I told you once, didn't I? He's my project; I'm going to turn him into the best big brother ever. The problem is that he's nothing like anybody I ever knew on Tatooine. His face almost never changes; it's like his viewscreen is permanently off. So, I've been running diagnostics."

"... Diagnostics?" she asked, curious where this was heading.

"Well isn't it obvious?" Anakin asked. "I need to figure out how he works first before I can diagnose any problems he has. It took me a while but I think he's kinda like a consular ship that we learned about a couple of weeks ago. Those ships are really utilitarian and don't have much, like a Jedi; they carry and cater to diplomats, like a Jedi, and their engines are super big and complex, like the Force; and the beds are really comfortable to sleep and snuggle to, like Obi-Wan. I'm trying to map him out like this consular ship."

Oh, if only her cousin Ric were here. Shamde could only imagine his reaction at hearing this.

"See, I figure Qui-Gon is like the navigational computers or something; almost everything Obi-Wan does seems to route through memories of him or lessons by him. The engines are the Jedi, I think; that's what keeps him running. Or maybe they're just the thrusters, I haven't decided which yet." He frowned at the diagrams, before looking up. "This is the biggest problem I've ever had, and building the podracer from scratch was hard..." He looked like he was going to say more but his eyes widened, and suddenly Anakin was scrambling to throw all the blueprints and diagrams into his schoolbag and throw it to the corner.

Dimly, downstairs, Shamde could hear Old Man Jafan. "Reeeent!"

Five minutes later, the door opened and a haggard looking Obi-Wan entered the tiny one-room apartment.

"Well, this should be interesting," he said, eyeing Shamde as she sat by the now significantly clearer table and Anakin, who was deliberately not looking at Obi-Wan as he cleared his plate and tossed it carelessly into the sink. "Dare I ask what has you so jittery?"

... Someday, Shamde thought, _some day_ her eyes would fall on the young Obi-Wan Kenobi and her mind would not automatically jump to _that_ equation. The one that said,

Shamde - 15 years - husband + Obi-Wan Kenobi = _Steamy Hot Date Fantasy_

Some day. Apparently not that day. But some day.

"Nothing!" Anakin said, too quickly and too loudly.

Shamde couldn't suppress a giggle, nor could she quite stop herself from coming to the poor child's aid. "He has something of a secret project in the works," she offered. "I stumbled upon it just now and he was trying - and failing, I might add - to explain it. He'll show you when he's ready; not before."

Obi-Wan offered a long, measuring gaze to Anakin, before rubbing his face. "It won't cost anything, nor will it interfere with your schoolwork, nor will it distract you from your studies with me?" he asked.

"Nope! Not a bit!" Anakin said in complete confidence.

"I'm one to agree," Shamde offered.

"Very well," he said. Slowly he shrank out of his worn and tattered robe and tossed it neatly over the remaining chair. Pulling his hand away from his face, he looked to Shamde. "To what do we owe the honor?" he asked.

"Social workers, especially with new families and custody cases, it's customary to drop by for unplanned visits. I wanted to see how you two are adjusting." Besides, she mentally added, the case would look great to her publisher. It was such a shame that she could never publish this case study; it wouldn't take much, she'd published amalgams of her case studies before, switching names, altering minor details. _This_ case had instant appeal: insight on Jedi culture and social structure, instant relation of the death of a loved one, trials of hitting rock bottom and moving up; it had all the earmarks of a best seller.

It was too bad she could never publish it. And with that, she carefully closed once again runaway thoughts and focused on the matter at hand.

"You look a little haggard this evening; did something happen at work?" she asked, noting that Anakin set down three cups of tea.

"Hardly anything worth mentioning," Obi-Wan said evasively.

Shamde's thoughts started to run away with her again, her steamy date night being replaced with the image of a frying pan. Obi-Wan often called up the image with his stubborn refusal to ask to help. He _still_ refused grief counseling even though she knew damn well that he was having a hard time working through the depression. Working two shifts of a minimum wage job and looking after a child only perpetuated the stress, and Force be damned she knew he needed help; and he utterly would not ask for it.

Frying pan.

It was another thought she never said out loud.

As she continued asking after the two and seeing how they were adjusting to their new lives, she made a few extra notes in her datapad. She and Padme had had an extended conversation that morning - which had surprised her; as she rather thought that Padme would assign her and be done with it, she was far too busy to keep checking in. Shamde had the impression that the queen had something important on her mind that had to do with Obi-Wan, and so she paid particular attention, frying pans and date nights aside, to how he seemed to be holding up. She would forward them to her Majesty after she wrote them up more formally.

She only hoped the two of them wouldn't have more trials ahead of them.

* * *

"Yousa ever smile?"

Obi-Wan looked up from his lunch, Anakin having just departed back for school (which he shouldn't have left in the _first_ place but Obi-Wan was quickly learning there were some things Anakin just refused to listen to). "I beg your pardon?"

The dark brown Gungan sighed, his eyestalks shaking slightly. "Yousa never smile," he said, reaching up and grabbing Obi-Wan's cheek, pulling it to the side. "Like dis," he offered. "But yousa never doin' it."

Obi-Wan quickly wrenched himself free of the Gungan's grasp, rubbing his abused face. "I smile," he offered, though he did admit it sounded just the slightest bit defensive.

"Nosa. You smirk, you grin, you move de corners, but you neber smile. Even den, yousa only makin' dosa for de boy." He paused, looking down at his seaweed lunch. "Mesa lost people, too, in de battle. Brot'er and uncle both. But me knowin' that holdin' it won't be doin' good."

Obi-Wan looked out over the construction. "I know that, too, Augara. I know that better than anyone." Suddenly he wasn't hungry. Visions of Qui-Gon flooded his vision again; memories, conversations, meditations, and the horrible last day. _Promise me you'll train him._ "That doesn't make it any easier. I can only trust that it will come with time." As much as Obi-Wan knew, intellectually, that Qui-Gon was consumed with the "now" and the result was that Obi-Wan himself was always an afterthought, in his heart he couldn't stop feeling shattered because even in his _dying breath_ he didn't think of his Padawan; and now he would never know. Had the argument before, their disagreement over Anakin, had it broken their relationship? Did he forgive him? They had talked before, Obi-Wan had apologized, Qui-Gon had offered deep words of praise, but was that it? Was that awkward moment all he had to use as a goodbye? It hurt just to think about it.

Later.

Rubbing his forehead, Obi-Wan stood, dusting himself off and putting away his foodstuffs. He cast his senses out to the site, trying to work out what needed the most help. "Best we get back to work before our esteemed foreman decides to further curb our pay."

Augara made a face at the very mention of the foremen. "Hesa bombad boss. No Gungan pay dis bad."

"I agree," Obi-Wan said slowly. It was another mistake in the string he had been making since this affair had started. When he had sought out work he had been naïve enough to believe that employers would be fair to their employees. Being paid by the bucket in the beginning had made sense, and Obi-Wan had even been understanding, thinking that the economic turmoil that always followed invasion would make the pay hold out before things evened out. Blast, he had even thought at first that the pay was actually _reasonable_.

_Then_ he had to start paying bills in the poorest district in Theed and he realized how little he as actually making. Even working double shifts he only had enough for rent, bills, and food. There were no savings to speak of. Almost every single credit went out as soon as he earned it. At this rate, he could afford the parts of a single lightsaber in fifteen years time. He groaned at the thought. Walking Anakin home and listening to other workers proved that he was not alone in discontent. After the first two months several workers offered their resignation, and in retaliation the foremen refused to make recommendations and blacklisted anyone who left. The message was clear after that.

"Mesa no understandin' why nobody speakin' to him."

Obi-Wan smiled softly at that. "He's rather disinclined to listening to his workers. His actions have proven that."

"Then how do wesa stop him?"

Obi-Wan didn't immediately answer. Ultimately, the workers would get together and demand restitution for the abuse they had been suffering, and the dispute would enter some kind of mediation or negotiation. Obi-Wan was trained for that of course, be he performed such negotiations after being briefed on both sides, and he was hesitant to offer his services until he knew all the facts. The workers were looking to unionize, and Obi-Wan did not know enough about what fell into the umbrella term other than "fair working conditions," and Obi-Wan still could not comfortably say he knew what that was. He felt - as was almost constant these days - woefully overwhelmed because there was so much he didn't know and he didn't know where or how to ask.

He wished Qui-Gon were there.

_"Listen to the Living Force! Would it tell you to wait if there were people in need? You are too focused on the future! The Unifying Force cannot help you with the Now, do not look to it."_

And yet even after six months of training himself to look to the Living Force, he still did not feel comfortable with it, still could not be sure if his instincts were right. There was no one to offer an opinion on his decisions, and that lack of very simple support froze him in indecision.

He did not trust himself.

How could he when he was responsible for the death of his master?

And so he went back to work with Augara, hoping that things would change.

* * *

Anakin was slouched in his chair, stewing something fierce. It had been an absolutely horrible day. Shuffling his feet, Anakin scowled miserably down to his crossed arms. He'd been sent to the office. Again. He'd gotten into an argument. Again. This was his third strike. Again. So Obi-Wan would be called in. _Again_.

It really was no wonder that his mood was so foul.

The kids at this school were just so _stupid_. Once they saw a new kid, they saw fresh meat. Anakin had been expecting this, as this happened whenever a new slave was brought in by an owner. He'd seen it happen before and he knew that callous and idiotic things would happen until a new equilibrium was established, like when a new part was added on a podracer and everything shook and trembled until all the kinks were worked out. So when comments were made about how he lived in such a tiny apartment, and what part of town that apartment was located, he'd just brushed it all aside. He didn't like hearing about it, so he stopped inviting people over. Simple fix, equilibrium reestablished.

When the kids had stopped tearing into where he lived, someone found out that he'd been a slave and started harping on that. Again, this was predicted. Anakin knew that people looked on slaves with either pity or as less-than-civilized. The teachers looked with pity and understood. The kids thought he was beneath them. That he was a moron because he was a slave and that he didn't deserve to be at their school.

Once he started outperforming them in class, they'd shut up, as he knew they would. Equilibrium once again reestablished. By that point, however, he'd been sent to the office quite a few times about disrupting class when others were teasing him, despite his best efforts to ignore them.

Obi-Wan had been very helpful. He provided a sympathetic ear and would emphatically state that the other kids were wrong to say such things and clearly didn't understand anything of his position. This, Anakin greatly appreciated. Then Obi-Wan would lecture about what giving in to anger would do. That feeling the hurt and injustice of it was fine, but acting out of anger was _dangerous_. It reminded Anakin of when Qui-Gon had found him beating Greedo for a cruel remark and Qui-Gon had told him that anger led to bad things.

So Anakin did what he could to ignore it, or fight back without anger. He'd gotten particularly good at turning their insults around and throwing them back, but Obi-Wan was starting to talk to him about putting others down and what it did to their feelings. That lecture got confusing, especially when Obi-Wan said that such things usually came from someone who had no confidence and what confidence was Anakin lacking that they could work on improving together?

It wasn't that everyone at this school was a cruel _sleemo_. He'd made a few friends in his piloting class and there was one really nice girl in his diplomacy class that was younger than him that he would study with. They made the day bearable. But, despite his best efforts to keep his head down, Anakin had earned a reputation among the student body as a tough-guy that needed to be taken down a peg.

All he wanted to do was _learn_, something denied to him back on Tatooine. And these _skocha-kloonkee_ were getting in the way. Since Anakin was free now, he wasn't going to let _anything_ get in his way to the things he wanted.

It was why he ignored Obi-Wan's consternation whenever Anakin went to visit him at lunch. What Obi-Wan never seemed to realize was that Anakin always _timed_ it when he went to lunch. He always made sure that he had a free period and that he checked in with the teacher to let them know where he'd be. ("I'm going to check on my brother, I don't care what the rules say. I'll be back by the end, I promise; you can time me.") The teachers weren't happy with it, not in the slightest, but Anakin kept true to his word. One time, a school official even followed him, not that she knew Anakin was aware of it. And the days when Obi-Wan was feeling particularly down, Anakin checked in with his teacher, regardless of whether it was a study or not. Obi-Wan always smiled more when Anakin checked in on him, despite protests, and Anakin wouldn't stop helping his brother, no matter what the school said.

But today, Anakin had gone too far.

That day, for the very first time ever, Anakin had gotten into an argument with a teacher.

Normally, when a teacher was sending him out, Anakin knew better than to shout back or argue or put up a fight. Doing so only made a problem worse, as his experience with Gardulla the Hutt sharply reminded him from dusty memories before Watto owned him and his mother. Even with Watto, arguing always led to more work and yelling.

While no one had power over him, not any more, Anakin _did_ acknowledge that others still had authority. He didn't particularly _like_ it when a teacher had to throw him out for being disruptive, but he did understand that it was his own fault for letting the _koochoo_ get to him and that the teacher had a responsibility to the other students in the room as well. The same went for the Security Guards, who had to enforce the laws that Padme put in place. It was what they had to do. Anakin didn't have to like it, he just had to do it. But he would because Padme knew what was best for Naboo.

That day, however, Anakin had argued with a teacher. It had been a lesson in engines and one of the examples being given was of some of the podracer engines from the professional circuit. The class had been eagerly pouring over the engine, running diagnostics and figuring out how things worked. Anakin had, naturally, started teaching his classmates about the racers and how to tweak engines to get more performance; since the model in front of them wasn't up to the snuff he was used to. The teacher had taken issue with this and said Anakin was wrong.

Anakin? Wrong about podracers? _Come on_!

And for every _valid point_ he'd made from his _vast experience_, the teacher had dismissed him, saying that he couldn't just take what he read in magazines and apply it.

Anakin had been dismissed.

Even _Watto_ didn't dismiss him when he had something to say about podracers! Watto would argue and shout, but he would ultimately have Anakin do what Anakin needed to improve the podracers to improve Watto's winnings. This teacher thought he was just a _kid_ who did a lot of looking on the HoloNet for specs and diagrams. That was _wrong_ and brought up so much feeling Anakin had exploded into some of his most vile Huttese as he explained every single piece of the engine, what it did, what the output was, and what _real_ racers did to improve engines.

Thus, Anakin was sitting in the office, waiting for the vice-principal, Verutine, to pull him into his office and talk to him. Again.

Anakin didn't care much for Verutine. He understood that the man was vice-principal and was tasked with kids who misbehaved and setting them straight. Whenever Anakin was sent out, he already understood what had gone wrong and didn't need Verutine to explain to him how to fix things. He already got that _thank you_ and didn't need salt in an open wound. Verutine came across intimidating and Anakin didn't take intimidation well. He'd had enough of that and he wouldn't stand for more. He knew arguing wouldn't help his case, but he wouldn't just sit back and let Verutine try and scare him into doing the right thing.

So Anakin couldn't say he was looking forward to being in Verutine's office again, but it didn't really affect him one way or another.

No, what really had him stewing so horribly was that Obi-Wan was going to be called in.

_That_ was what was so bad.

Obi-Wan, Anakin had learned, very rarely shouted. He could get frustrated, or exasperated, but Anakin's brother never really got _angry_. Once Anakin had realized that, he knew that he'd have _nothing_ to fear. Granted, as a Jedi, he doubted Obi-Wan would ever raise a hand to him, but Anakin _knew_ he could be a pain, and he never knew what would ultimately push Obi-Wan over the edge.

But Obi-Wan didn't have to get angry.

All Obi-Wan had to do was look at him with disappointment and Anakin felt worse than _skocha kung_.

Ever since Obi-Wan had told the Jedi he was staying, Anakin had started to get an idea of exactly _what_ his new brother had given up to do so. He doubted that Obi-Wan had ever had to worry about finances, rent, bills, etc. Obi-Wan had given up a comfortable life with friends back at the Temple to make sure that _he_ was trained. Anakin might not get all the finer details of that, but he _did_ realize that it must have been a _huge_ price to pay.

For him.

It was instant loyalty for Anakin. Obi-Wan was committed to him in a way only his mother and Qui-Gon had ever been before. So Anakin worked hard at everything Obi-Wan asked him to do. Even the _stupid_ meditations in the evening before he went to bed that were so _karking_ hard. Because Obi-Wan had given up _everything_ and Anakin couldn't _not_ do the same in return some how.

His brother was always fair. Fair almost to a fault. He wouldn't grant Anakin any favors if he did something wrong. He'd acknowledge the feelings behind it, but he'd still discuss with him what a fair consequence would be. It was something that Anakin appreciated, the discussing. It wasn't an owner handing down rules from on high. It was a thoughtful discussion that, granted, Obi-Wan could always steer the way he wanted to be, but by the end Anakin would always reluctantly agree because he understood why Obi-Wan was doing what he was doing. He never _liked_ it, but he understood.

So Anakin always strived to be better. To be that perfect pupil that Obi-Wan deserved. One who wouldn't screw up so often. His brother said that it was expected for Anakin to stumble, he didn't have the benefit of growing in the Temple, but Anakin still wanted to leave that qualifier aside. He wanted to be better _now_, so that Obi-Wan would wear that smile of pride more often.

"Mr. Skywalker?"

Anakin looked up, interrupted from his stewing by Verutine himself, standing tall. He looked like that Jedi Council Member, Mace Something-or-other, only with hair, and he stood firm and unyielding.

Anakin took a deep breath and let it out slowly, something Obi-Wan always advised when he was angry to let out his feelings. "_Anger clouds one's judgment, Padawan. You must learn to let it go and think with a clear head._" This wasn't easy. At all. But Anakin kept trying. Arguing with the vice-principal wouldn't help, so he needed to reign in his temper.

Standing, he silently followed, taking another deep breath.

"Have a seat, Mr. Skywalker."

Anakin sat in the small office, staring back down to his feet. Verutine walked behind his desk and took a seat with a deep sigh.

Another deep breath and Anakin decided to try and start this off on the right foot. "I'm... sorry for yelling at the teacher," he said quietly. "I know podracers better than she does, but if I have to disagree, I shoulda done so politely."

Verutine blinked, leaning back. "Thank you for that, Mr. Skywalker. Given how you usually blame other students for your arguments with them, I was expecting you to defend yourself."

Anakin scowled. The other kids _did_ always start it, but going on the defensive now wouldn't help. He'd handle this the way he thought Obi-Wan would. Calmly and rationally.

"My issues with students are issues with students," Anakin bit out, before taking another deep breath. "Whether you believe me or not, I try _not_ to get into arguments with them. The teacher today, however," Anakin swallowed some of his frustration, "was unacceptable, especially for a classroom. I was..." Anakin clenched his teeth, "angry at being dismissed on something I know so much about. I needed to either pull the teacher aside or talk to someone else about it."

Verutine, who normally scowled at students in his office, raised his eyebrows and smiled. "Very good, Mr. Skywalker. Very good. While this is a good step in the right direction, I feel I must express concerns to both you and your... guardian... about your tendency to argue and fight back so much."

Anakin continued to stare down at his feet, _refusing_ to argue about the tone Verutine used whenever referring to Obi-Wan as his guardian. Shamde had said that people wouldn't understand why Obi-Wan hadn't come out and adopted him. Anakin expected a certain level of looking down one's nose where that was concerned. But they didn't _know_ about him and Obi-Wan. They were _brothers_. Obi-Wan just wasn't used to the idea because he'd never really had a family before. Anakin _knew_ it was going to take time to get Obi-Wan to realize what they were. Probably even longer to get him to admit it. But that didn't make it hurt any less whenever someone like Verutine sounded like they were sneering at Obi-Wan's hesitance at adoption.

Deep breath. _Again_.

"From my experience," Verutine continued, "if a child such as yourself has such trouble dealing with their anger, there are usually other things going on. I know that you and your... guardian... are having some financial difficulty. Is there anything else going on that we should know?"

Anakin looked up, surprised. Just what was Verutine asking?

... No...

...He couldn't be implying... that Obi-Wan was _doing_ something to him?

He saw red just as the door behind him opened.

Anakin stood, anger and hatred and contempt swirling around him. "How _dare_ you!" he shouted. "How _dare_ you! You know _nothing_! Do you hear me? _Nothing_! Obi-Wan's the kindest, most gentlest, most _nicest_ guy in the whole _galaxy_! He gave up everything for me! _Everything_! He didn't have to!"

"Padawan!"

"He could have left me back on Tatooine to be a slave or dumped me in an orphanage, or any other number of things and he _didn't_! He _chose_ to give up his _life_ to stay with me and raise me! Don't you _dare_ say he's no good to me! He's patient, he doesn't yell at me, he explains and explains and _explains_ till I get it right and he treats me like a _person_! A _person_!"

"Anakin!" "

"And he's grieving and he's lost and he doesn't always know what to do but he tries anyway! I am so _sick_ of people putting him down just 'cause he wasn't expecting me in his life! He didn't adopt me because he didn't want it to look like he was trying to replace my mother! He's _always_ doing stuff like that! He _always_ thinks of others first and himself last!"

A pair of strong, familiar arms had pulled him back from leaning over the vice-principals desk, but Anakin paid no attention. He started spewing out the most vicious language he knew, starting with the oh-so-familiar Huttese and interspersing the newer Basic words he'd learned from his classmates.

There was someone kneeling in front of him, hands on his shoulders, but Anakin only had eyes for Verutine as the invective and defamation continued. Nobody... _nobody_ insulted his family! Whether it was his mother, Padme, or Obi-Wan, he would _not_ tolerate anyone showing them anything other than respect.

Two fingers touched the center of his forehead and suddenly all the tension drained out of him. The anger was still swirling, but it was no longer as all-consuming as it had been.

_Padawan! Anakin!_

With a blink Anakin looked to the side and saw Obi-Wan's worried, pale face looking over him.

Oh.

Anakin's face scrunched up. Of all the _karking, loca, stoopa_, idiotic things to do, he'd given in to his anger. He'd _failed_ Obi-Wan. Spectacularly. Anger disappeared in an instant as tears welled in his eyes and he reached forward and hugged Obi-Wan as tightly as he could, sobbing uncontrollably.

_I'm sorry_, he tried to say. _I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. No anger and I _failed_ and got angry and am such a _disappointment_ and you deserve so much better than me and I'm supposed to _help_ you not make more trouble..._ Anakin's self-debasing kept on going as Obi-Wan wrapped his arms around him

_Such anger,_ he heard Obi-Wan whisper. _I had no idea... my fault... it's all my fault..._

Anakin pulled back, ready to tell Obi-Wan just what he thought of that, but Verutine interrupted.

"Mr. Kenobi. I'd recommend taking young Anakin home. We can discuss things later."

Obi-Wan picked up Anakin easily, since Anakin wouldn't be letting go any time soon. Anakin wasn't sure how Obi-Wan knew that, but he took it in stride. "Very well." His brother turned to him. "Anakin? Is there anything you still need for your homework?"

Anakin scowled. He didn't _want_ to do homework tonight. He just wanted to talk to his brother. Apologize and get things back to normal. But he sighed. Obi-Wan was very firm on homework and responsibility. "We can stop off at the classroom," he said. "I gotta apologize to the teacher anyway."

Obi-Wan nodded and Anakin thought he sensed something like approval, but it was hard to tell through his own emotional upset.

"Then let's go home, Padawan."

* * *

**Author's Notes:** I think one of the personality traits listed for Anakin is "fiercely loyal." We tweaked that ever so slightly to "viciously loyal." Given his circumstances he generally thinks nobody loves him, and so the ones he knows love him (or he loves himself) he will put on a pedestal and refuse to let anyone speak ill of them. We can picture many a fistfight with other kids that made fun/insulted his mother for being a slave, and so it isn't really a stretch to think he'd start a fight if he thought someone was questioning Obi-Wan's ability to parent him.

He blew things out of proportion, of course, but then Anakin does that sometimes. Besides, he's a kid, kid's _often_ blow things out of proportion.

We have to give the kid credit for trying to be good. This is the kid that you genuinely like in the classroom but know can be a holy terror when angry. I had a kid like that, sweet as could be, sensitive and very shy with his math ability; but piss him off and you could hear him down the hallway - and that's assuming he didn't take a swing. Anakin is something of a challenge to teachers, some will come to dread him and others won't have a problem with him. It depends on what the teacher/principal does to earn his respect. Obviously, this vice principal committed a mortal sin. Anakin will never respect him and always be defensive.

Obi-Wan is still angsting, even six months after the fact. He's trying, but indecision is stilling him - even with Qui-Gon's advice screaming in his head. He'll turn around. Eventually.

And the trial. We have many plans for the trial.

One thing we've tried very hard to be clear on is about depression. People have this idea of what depression is, laying around the house and doing nothing, crying all the time, or even snapping at someone or something. It's not. Persistent depression is a lot more complicated. Someone we live with won't ever go see a doctor, but the two of us are fairly sure she can be diagnosed with clinical depression. She still gets up every morning and does whatever needs to be done and can even laugh and make jokes. But give her anything unexpected, and the reaction will be on the negative side, and there is a distinct tendency towards lethargy and happiness doesn't come easily.

Obi-Wan is going through depression, but he isn't completely hampered by it. He has a hard time being happy, but he can be with Anakin and he knows its not healthy and keeps trying to shake it. But without some sort of help it's just going to take him a long while to find a balance for himself.

And really, how many of us look at Obi-Wan and go through some sort of similar equation? At least she remains professional about it. And the need for a frying pan balances it out quite nicely. ^_^

**Next chapter:** A visit.


	8. Chapter 8

**Part Eight**

_Be prepared._

Obi-Wan was more than slightly acquainted with the Unifying Force, it often poked and prodded him with ideas and suggestions; things like _be sensitive,_ or _no time_, or _follow him_. The nudges were without context, often he had no idea what the impressions meant. This annoyed him to no end, but he'd learned to live with it, and usually he figured it out in time to do what was necessary. Usually. The most recent and noteworthy exception, the ultimate failure in his ability to listen to the Force, had been the elusive darkness, the shadowy _it's coming_ that he failed to realize was the return of the Sith. Even when Qui-Gon faced and fought the Sith on Tatooine, he had not understood, and the cost of that failure had been his master's life.

The result of this in the following months was Obi-Wan becoming near fanatical in his need to interpret the Unifying Force when it dropped an oblique hint at him. Far better to know than to trudge around in ignorance. Even then, he had nearly missed the survivor in the destroyed buildings, it had been the Living Force that had finally hit him on the head, and now months later he struggled to be open to anything the Force wanted to tell him, Unifying or otherwise.

For the last two days he kept feeling _be prepared_, and two nights of no sleep, wading deep in meditation in search of the underlying meaning did little to illuminate the subject. Meditation was restful, but the lack of REM was catching up to him. As the sun finally peeked over the rooftops of Theed's circular buildings he started to wonder if he'd cut off his braid too soon. Clearly the High Council was mistaken; he was not ready to be a Knight. But then, cast out of the Order as he was, it was likely moot.

That Anakin was struggling in his forms was not helping. At all.

"No, Padawan, not like that."

"I'm trying Obi-Wan!"

"That's the problem; you can't force this."

"Then why call it 'the Force' if you can't force it to do what you want?"

Patience, he reminded himself. The way of the Jedi is patience.

Obi-Wan pulled himself out of his stance and knelt down to Anakin's height, putting a hand on the boy's shoulder. "What's wrong?" he asked softly.

"Nothing's wrong!" Anakin said defensively.

"Digging in your heels will only further distract you from the Force," Obi-Wan advised. "The more distracted you are the more frustrated you will become, and I've noticed that you, Padawan, often jump from frustration to anger. Please, let go of whatever is bothering you."

The boy stared furiously at his feet, not saying anything.

Internally Obi-Wan sighed. Anakin was generally a very open boy, but sometimes he would utterly shut down, and Obi-Wan had yet to understand what the triggers were. He had always thought that younglings were supposed to be easy to understand, younger minds and fewer experiences and little training and the like. Anakin was proving every preconception Obi-Wan ever had about children utterly wrong. Anakin was complicated; painfully prone to attachment, quick to anger, desperate for independence, and other things Obi-Wan had yet to understand even after six months of training him.

_"How long does it take for a Master and Padawan to know each other? The entire apprenticeship, Padawan."_

Patience, Obi-Wan counseled himself. Patience.

"... _my _feelings..." Anakin mumbled.

Obi-Wan blinked. "I'm sorry?"

Anakin looked up, his eyes firey. "Obi-Wan, they're _my_ feelings! I don't wanna let go of something that's _mine_!"

_Be prepared. The road is difficult._

He wasn't ready for this. He wasn't ready by _half_. Still, clinging like that would do Anakin no good, especially in the future. Obi-Wan would have to word this carefully and-

"So it was true."

Obi-Wan froze. He turned slightly; half afraid and half wishing that cool feminine voice belonged to someone else. Wishes were for fools, however, and when Obi-Wan spied a certain fiery blond he knew that he would never, _ever_ had been prepared for _this_.

"... Siri," he whispered, wide-eyed as he looked up to the blond Siri Tachi, Jedi robes swaying slightly in a small breeze, her hair catching the sunlight and highlighting the look of contempt on her face. Slowly, he stood to his full height, waiting.

She punched him dead in the face.

He dared not duck the blow considering what happened to him _last_ time he tried it.

"You're an idiot!"

Then she threw her arms around him in a tight embrace. Obi-Wan felt like a teenager again, old memories and feelings burning through him and he was sure he was turning bright red. All he could offer was a slightly choked "... It's good to see you, too." A glance down showed a bright look of curiosity on Anakin's face, and he dreaded learning what conclusions the boy was jumping to. The morning shifts would be starting soon, too, and people were finally starting to fill wide thoroughfare.

Suddenly desperate for privacy, Obi-Wan said, "Perhaps you would like to walk with us?"

The blonde gave him an appraising look, long and scrutinizing. "Alright," she said finally.

Siri set a slow pace, likely deliberate, and Obi-Wan followed, hoping he was projecting calm even as his insides twisted in anxiety. He feared what his friend and spitfire had to say. Anakin kept eying the both of them, as if he wasn't quite sure what to make of the two together. Obi-Wan could feel mountains of curiosity emanating from the boy, and no small amount of trepidation of Siri. Given her rather shocking entrance, Obi-Wan could more than understand.

"What are you doing now?" Siri asked. Obi-Wan know this was only a prelude. He thought it best to play along.

"Currently I am in construction," he answered, proud that his voice didn't crack or betray his emotional state. "Theed and other cities were greatly damaged with the Trade Federation bombings and there was plenty of work available as a result as you can imagine. We've only recently managed to clear away and tear down the last of the structurally unsafe buildings. Now the rebuilding can begin. Rumor has it there will be some kind of memorial for those lost in the blockade; I understand that such a thing is customary in construction. But then, at the Temple we often commission statues."

"They made a statue for Qui-Gon," Siri said softly.

The world broke all over again. He saw the power core, the Sith Zabrak, the red lightsaber, the blow to the chin, the impalement. He heard... he heard...

_"Promise me you'll train the boy."_

Obi-Wan closed his eyes to the memory. And the pain. He couldn't face it then, not with Siri and Anakin there...

"They put it in the Tower of First Knowledge."

Taking a deep breath, Obi-Wan finally opened his eyes. "That's very appropriate," he said softly, his voice miraculously even. "He always favored knowledge."

He thought he felt a spike of sympathy, from Siri or Anakin he wasn't sure, but Siri's eyes softened for a brief moment before she twisted her head aside, crossing her arms and assuming a more biting tone. "It's too bad _some_ people didn't follow his lead," she said. Obi-Wan could hear the accusation but couldn't understand what it was over.

"... I beg your pardon?" he asked, confused.

It seemed that was all that Siri needed. She turned fiery eyes to him. "You need more than my pardon!" she hissed. "Do you have any idea what you've put us through?"

Obi-Wan blinked, as did Anakin. "Siri... I don't know what you're talking about."

That only made Siri more angry. "So typical! Did it ever occur to you to get a message to the Temple that you were all right? When the High Council went off for Naboo we all thought you had died with Qui-Gon! Bant cried for days! _Days!_ Reeft _stopped eating_! When the Council came back nobody would say anything and you weren't there! It wasn't until Garen looked up your status on the mainframe that we had any idea to the contrary! We sent you a hundred messages and you never bothered to even _read_ them, let alone reply!"

"... Messages?" Obi-Wan asked.

"On your comm. id!"

"... That's still active?" he asked, shocked. He had been certain that his leaving the Jedi had forfeited everything but his id chip. Comm ids, message services, HoloNet space, he thought all of it had been erased. Why had the Jedi kept it open? He couldn't really process the thought, however, because he was still reeling from the other things Siri was throwing at him. His friends all thought he was dead? How? Why? It hurt him deeply to think of them mourning him - of Bant crying and Garen sulking and Reeft not eating - when it was unnecessary, untrue even. They should have heard from him, Siri was right about that. But... the thought of contacting them, of contacting anyone at the Temple, that hurt just as much as thinking about his friends mourning him. Just seeing Siri had brought up a wellspring of memories and emotions and thoughts, things he thought wouldn't affect him because he had been cast out. It simply never occurred to him that he would run into a Jedi again, and he certainly never expected the pain that came from it.

But even as he struggled to acknowledge the maelstrom of emotions that were suddenly overwhelming him, Siri kept talking. She was not done yet.

"As if all this wasn't bad enough, we find out that you left the Order. Again!"

"Again?" Anakin asked.

"Didn't you learn anything the first time? You told me how much Cerasi's death upset you, how much you felt you hurt your own master! But now you're doing it again and for what? _Construction?_ Do you really expect me to believe that? Do you really think _Qui-Gon_ would be happy with this decision?"

Word after word cut into Obi-Wan, his heart bleeding and his mind crying even as he body refused to show the pain. Anakin could feel it, though, and that was enough.

"_Don't talk about Qui-Gon like that!_" the boy shouted at the top of his lungs. Several morning commuters turned their heads to see what the commotion was about.

"Padawan," Obi-Wan said quickly, "It's alright..."

"No it's not!" Anakin shouted. "She wasn't there and she's saying all these mean things when she doesn't even know what happened and she's a _Jedi_ she should know that you're not supposed to jump to conclusions like you're always telling me and she won't even listen to your side of the story and she's making you upset!" He paused long enough to take a breath and turned to face Siri. "You get out of here right now!"

Siri stared at Anakin, not quite sure what to make of him. "Obi-Wan..." she said slowly, here eyes darting from him to Anakin and back, "you just called him 'Padawan.'"

Allowing himself a deep sigh, he put a hand on the boy's shoulder. "This is Anakin Skywalker; Anakin, this is Siri Tachi. Master Qui-Gon's last wish was for me to train him."

"Last wish..."

"To put more bluntly, it was his dying wish," Obi-Wan said, his voice oddly flat. "The High Council disagreed very strongly. The difference of opinion led to a... falling out." Obi-Wan snapped his mouth shut, unable to say more.

"You mean... you've left the Order for this boy?"

"Yes!" Anakin supplied. "He believes in me like Qui-Gon did!"

Siri stared at them both, her eyes still jumping from one to the other. "That's..." she started. She licked her lips and tried again. "That's..." She shook her head, blond locks tossing from one side to the other. "That's so _stupid!_"

"Oh, dear," Obi-Wan muttered.

"Medila/Daan at least made sense! It was a righteous cause and I could bring myself to believe that you were doing what you thought was right and that you were merely misguided. But this? You give up everything you believe in - your very identity - for some youngling that's too old to train? You can't spin that, Obi-Wan!"

"He shouldn't have to!" Anakin shouted, once more drawing attention compared to Siri's tempered hisses. "I told you to leave him alone! Go away!"

Siri looked down to Anakin, and Obi-Wan knew that whatever next came out of her mouth would be even more damaging than anything she had said to date. He was struggling enough as it was and he didn't need further complications in his training that he could avoid. At least, that was his justification to himself later. He grabbed her forearm, the sudden tight grip startling her, and the former Jedi looked at the Jedi directly in the eye.

"You're perfectly right," he said in soft, firm tones. He'd never been so assertive before, he'd never needed to with his master, and his radical change in demeanor held her attention. "I should have contacted you and the others after the Council left Naboo. You have my deepest apologies on that count and I doubt you'll ever understand how much regret I feel over their suffering. But," he said, his eyes intense, "Your coming here to abscond me for not following the rules will not take away the pain any of us has felt, nor will it change my mind, nor will it make you feel better. Your anger is clouding your judgment and upsetting my Padawan. I suggest you leave. Give Bant and the others my best, and tell them I'm sorry. For everything."

"You're not my master!" Siri hissed, an indignant flush filling her face.

"But I am a Knight where you are still a Padawan," Obi-Wan said softly, "So I suggest you take my council."

Finally, he let go of her arm, stepping back. "I have to get Anakin to school or I'll be late for my shift. Goodbye, Siri."

Before his face broke completely, he turned on his heel and touched Anakin's shoulder; the boy quickly followed, but not before throwing one last vociferous glare at Obi-Wan's former friend. Looking down, the former Jedi saw that his hands were shaking. He hid them by crossing his arms behind his back. "Anakin," he said softly. His voice cracked, so he coughed and tried again. "Anakin, what did you learn about diplomacy just now?"

Anakin stared at Obi-Wan for a long time, his mind full of anger and loyalty and confusion and mostly anger. "I learned that she's a _sleemo_!"

A shaky hand went up to his forehead. He had such a long way to go...

* * *

Shamde was heading up the stairs when old Jafan went running by, crying out "Reeent!" and she couldn't help but chuckle. Obi-Wan and Anakin certainly had a stubborn landlord. This would likely be her last visit for a while, since there wasn't really much more she could do to help them settle in. It has been close to seven months now. They were all filed, listed, and up-to-date, they'd survived the yearly income tax (not that they had enough earnings to pay, but Obi-Wan insisted they look through the files to get an idea for the following year), and were in a relatively comfortable routine. Much as Shamde would prefer to keep checking in on them, just because the two of them were so interesting, she did have other cases and she couldn't hold their hands forever. As it was, she'd checked in and assisted them longer than she usually did because the Queen showed such interest in these two. (Not that she blamed her, the two were quite a pair...)

Surprisingly, neither of them opened the door, as she had grown accustomed to. They always seemed to know when she was coming and had the door open and tea ready whenever she came. It rather made surprise visits not much a surprise. But she stood at the door and just took a moment to listen. While this was a good apartment building, especially considering Obi-Wan's lack of wages, the walls were thin.

The two were arguing.

Well, that was interesting. In all of Shamde's time with the pair, she had never seen so much as a ruffled feather. They just worked in sync in a way she wished she and her husband could emulate. Granted, Shamde suspected a great deal of that was the getting-to-know-you period, but that whole getting-to-know-you period was _usually_ when there were the most fights as people felt out their places around each other. She'd never even felt any tension between them like she could with other families or couples. Admittedly, it had worried her. _Everyone_ had arguments. It was the natural course of things between beings. Shamde knew that as a Jedi, Obi-Wan had a great deal of training in diplomacy and that he was trying to ensure Anakin got similar instruction, but surely the two of them were going to disagree on something eventually, compromise or not.

Apparently, she'd arrived just in time to find out.

"_No_, Anakin. We've both looked at our finances. Three days is all we can afford and it will be enough."

"Obi-Wan! You need a _week_ at least! Have you seen yourself in the mirror at _all_? Stop acting like a _wermo_!"

"You know our expenses. We'll be living thin as it is with only three days. Any more and we'll get behind on payments and then we're sunk."

"Then I'll work to make up the differences!"

There was a pause.

"Absolutely not! You are _not_ a slave any more! I will not have you skipping school and working in who knows what sort of conditions to make up for something that we can get through. There are child labor laws for a _reason_."

"And here on Naboo kids can work! Look at Padme! I looked her up at school, she started work when she was _eight_ and that's younger than me!"

"And your education? My three days won't be me sitting around idle, I have plans on what to work on with you."

"I can do make-up work! And you're missing the point entirely, _you need a week off_!"

"A week off from school would leave you as far behind as we'd be in our bills."

And round they went.

Shamde took a moment to mull over what she'd heard. Obi-Wan was evidently not feeling well and needed to take a few days off, but Anakin, caring brother that he was, wanted Obi-Wan to take more off to likely ensure wellness - even if it meant missing school and working somewhere.

This wasn't the usual type of argument she'd step into. Granted, the worry over finances was far too common, and indeed, most people who required her services would argue about credits, where they came from, if they came at all, and what to put said finances into. But that wasn't the core of what these two were arguing about. The core was that they both wanted to take care of and look out for the other. Anakin wanted Obi-Wan to take all the time he needed and rely on him. Obi-Wan wanted to minimize the work Anakin needed to do and bring up memories of slavery by relying on him.

It was all very sweet and would make her want to coo if it wasn't for the yelling on the other side of the door.

Time to interrupt before things got bad.

Shamde knocked and the voices stopped. The door opened and Shamde, despite mental protests, went through the equation where she lost her age, her husband and went on a _Steamy Hot Date Fantasy_.

Ever a consummate professional, she didn't show it, blinked and brought herself back to reality.

"Hello there," Obi-Wan greeted, and all images Shamde had of this handsome young man from her fantasy were thrown out by the exhausted, worn down, t_ired_ man before her. His hair, which had been steadily growing since she'd met him, was looking shaggy and like it hadn't been washed. His face was pale and pinched, the smile a little too tight. But his _eyes_ were underscored by dark circles and shadows; both of which just pronounced the bloodshot nature and droopy eyelids.

"Anakin's right, you need more than three days," were the first words she said.

Obi-Wan sighed, but stepped aside to let her in. Anakin was already bringing a cup of tea over to their tiny table, which she accepted gratefully. It was getting chilly out as autumn progressed. The boy smiled at her as she sipped.

"You heard," Obi-Wan said quietly, taking a seat across from her.

She shrugged. "I have a suggestion, if the two of you are willing to listen."

"We are," Anakin said, "as long as it involves _him_," he pointed to his legal guardian, "taking more time off to sleep."

"Padawan..."

Shamde set down her cup with a clack to prevent anything else from starting.

"Mr. Kenobi," she started, "can you afford one more day off?"

Obi-Wan gave a deep sigh, glancing down at the datapads on the table before filtering through them. Anakin picked up one and passed it over.

"It would eat into our food budget but... yes, I think I can mange one more day."

"Yes!" Anakin cheered. Two pairs of adult eyes Looked at him. "Ah... sorry."

"Mr. Kenobi is correct," she said to him. "Child labor laws are there for a reason. We here on Naboo believe in emotional maturity. You aren't anywhere near that yet, which is understandable given the emotional scars you bear from you years in slavery. I expect that it will be your teenage years before anyone on this planet will acknowledge you as an adult. At the earliest. No one would hire you."

Anakin scowled horribly at the reality check she'd given him, but Obi-Wan reached out and put a hand on his shoulder. "Nothing happens overnight, Padawan."

"I _know_! I know..."

Shamde let them have their moment. "Now, there is a chores-for-cash belief here on Naboo."

"Chores-for-cash?" both asked simultaneously.

"Yes. Children can do chores for their parents for an allowance, or help out their neighbors for a small amount of money. Mowing lawns, clearing driveways in the cold weather, taking out the garbage, babysitting. That sort of thing."

Obi-Wan sat back looking thoughtful while Anakin looked eager.

"Now it won't be the same as a proper job. Really, such chores are usually meant for spending money for children. But it will supplement for the days you're off. And no one will accept you during school hours."

The two looked at each other, clearly starting to find the middle ground she was suggesting. Shamde sat back.

"I'll need one full day with you with me, Anakin. I want to show you something and it will take all day to do it."

"That's fine! I can do a few odd jobs after-school at a parts shop we pass. It won't take long to show 'em my skills and what I can do."

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. "I'd rather you work reception and get to know how to deal with customers. The people here are quite different that the sort you'd find back on Tatooine and some practice in manners would go a long way for you."

They started to settle into planning and Shamde smiled to herself, glad that she could still be useful for this interesting pair.

She was rather surprised when both paused and looked directly to the door. Obi-Wan was already standing and making his way over and Shamde wondered what they were doing.

Obi-Wan opened the door, Anakin walking over curiously, to a man whose hand was just at the buzzer. "Can I help you?"

The man was a three-eyed Gran, his muzzle-like snout smiling. "Hello," he greeted. "I am looking for someone named Obi-Wan Kenobi."

Obi-Wan smiled pleasantly while Anakin glanced between them. "Well, it seems you found him."

"Excellent." The Gran smiled back, handing over a datachip. Obi-Wan continued to smile as he took it. "You've just been served. You'll be expected at the trial of Nute Gunray and the Trade Federation on Coruscant. The details are enclosed. Have a nice day."

Anakin blinked, looking at the chip curiously, but Obi-Wan's pale face paled further.

"Mr. Kenobi? Let's have a look at that file."

Obi-Wan and Anakin were back at the table and Shamde swiftly pulled the chip and put it into a datapad, reviewing the documentation. "The trial is scheduled to start at the end of the year," she said, watching as Obi-Wan's brows furrowed in worry. "You'll be a witness for the prosecution."

"I see," he said quietly. "This is... well I expected it but..."

"But you haven't had time to think about it." She narrowed her eyes. "I don't usually get involved in actual courtroom settings," she said, "but I _have_ been called to the stand a few times. I have some suggestions and a good friend who's a lawyer who..."

Obi-Wan waved away the offering. "No need. As a Jedi, when a mission doesn't go well, we are expected to appear in court. I know what needs to be done." He sighed. "The timing, however, is less than ideal. I'll need my robes repaired, scrounge up money for transport, research the trial..."

Shamde frowned further. "Find a sitter for Anakin, if he stays, or if he goes with you, check the school for the work he'll likely miss, how long are you expected to stay on Coruscant?"

"I can look after myself," Anakin sulked. "I can do some of that for you, Obi-Wan. You're busy at work and I have access to the HoloNet at school. Give me a few free periods and I can get what you need."

Obi-Wan let out a very long, very tired sigh. "We'll discuss it during my days off, my young Padawan. For now," he turned and smiled to Shamde. "We thank you for checking in with us. But I believe you have an appointment right about now?"

Frying pan. She _needed_ a frying pan, professional decorum be damned.

A glance at her chrono and she decided that Jedi, in general, needed frying pans for sneaking into other people's minds.

"I'll stop by later next week," she said firmly. "I'll have some materials on how we Nabooan take care of court proceedings."

And if she could see Queen Amidala, Shamde was quite certain that many of Obi-Wan's worries would be taken care of.

If he let them.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** We disavow any knowledge of Siri Tachi. What you just read was us pretending we know her. Wookiepeida was disappointing in that respect, and all we were really able to glean from it was she was something of a spitfire. Feel free to correct us as needs be.

And poor Obi, he keeps trying to teach Ani. Some days a kid just doesn't get it. And of course the instant he finally makes some progress and could sit down and talk to Anakin about holding onto feelings... he gets interrupted.

For those of you expecting some Siri/Obi-Wan, we regret to inform you that this will be the only scene with her. Obi-Wan has his hands full with Anakin and just surviving that he's not really going to have time for any sort of relationship. Plus, given how fanatical he is about Jedi at this point, he wouldn't be going for any relationship, even with some random coworker on Naboo. Plus, at this point, there are other things in the way. Siri is a Padawan and still has a lot to learn. Obi-Wan has been promoted to Knight after a great deal of painful hard-earned experience. They're not on the same level. Even in canon, this wouldn't be the period for the two of them to get together because there's now a maturity difference between them. Siri falls back to her master for advice while Obi-Wan doesn't have such a luxury. It makes for two different perspectives that aren't going to meld very well.

All that said, we've tried to keep Siri sympathetic, in a way. She just seems to have a bad case of foot-in-mouth disease, proving she's still got a lot to learn with her spitfire tendencies. This is also another situation of Anakin seeing a Jedi and not having the best impression. He can't see that she's stumbling through the conversation without realizing the effect on Obi-Wan. All Anakin sees is Obi-Wan (who's still depressed and grieving and so-not-ready for this conversation) getting hurt by what she says. Naturally, given his highly-and-over-developed protective instincts, he lashes out. (We love you Ani, but you need to learn some discipline...) And, because Obi-Wan's Top and Only priority is Anakin ("I promise, Master..."), he has to leave Siri behind, and associatively his friends. The Jedi part of his life is over and he can't really deal with contacting them in any way right now because he's just too hurt.

And if this wasn't enough, Obi-Wan is subpoenaed. Dun, dun, dun~! That's our marker for the next "arc" of the story, which is prep-ing for the trial. Not that that can really go easily as this whole big Thing is going to get in the way, but we don't want to say more without giving spoilers. ^_^

Of course, the whole _Be prepared!_ is still out there. Does it reference Siri's arrival, Obi-Wan's subpoena, or something else entirely? The Unifying Force is mysterious like that.

**Next time:** A fight.


	9. Chapter 9

**Part Nine**

Anakin was staying after school. He'd missed a day watching Obi-Wan go through his healing trance, and now he had to make up the work. It had been worth it, though, over that twelve-hour period Anakin had paid rapt attention. Both he (though he didn't admit it) and his brother were concerned that he had the attention span to watch for that long, but once Anakin had managed to clear his mind enough to see what Obi-Wan was doing stampeding banthas couldn't pull him away. He saw tendrils and pulses and waves; it was like watching the chatter of navicomputers to engines on a microchip level. Obi-Wan's mind sent all kinds of signals, and Anakin could sense the Force respond to each nuance in kind - and all this while Obi-Wan was asleep! Or, unconscious, or so deep in meditation that he said it felt like sleeping. He'd asked Obi-Wan if he remembered any of it, but his brother said no, healing trances were done on a subconscious level. It was why, he added with an arched eyebrow, a Jedi needed to touch the Force at all times, not just during periods of adrenaline.

So, after school in the shop wing with other students making up work, Anakin wanted to try it out.

One of his assignments was in his engine assembly class, and he felt that he would have the best luck with that rather than trying it on his politics or his diplomacy class. Besides, the six year old, Kohse, was great in both of the topics and he could ask her later. Closing his eyes, he mentally put himself in a podracer, winding through Beggar's Canyon, remembering the vibration of the engine, the wind on his cheeks and sweat under his goggles. He thought about how his brain felt, the sense of expansion he had, that his mind wasn't just in his head but also _out there_, in the machine where it was talking to him.

Hoping his concentration wouldn't break, he opened his eyes and stared at the engine in front of him. The block of machinery seemed to jump out at him, and suddenly he knew exactly what to do, and it was everything he could do to keep up.

A fist wrapped around an actuator and Anakin furiously got to work. He'd never felt his instincts so keenly; all the training he was doing in the mornings and evenings seemed to be paying off. He saw the design flaws the teacher had put in the engine block, originally meant to challenge the class but in this hyper-instinct frame of mind it looked painfully easy. Anakin was rewiring circuits, replacing diodes, and correcting thrust gauges. He saw a logic error and fixed that. He saw an aging power conduit and he quickly thought about the one in the back cabinets and without really thinking it was in his hand and he was about to replace it when his instincts told him _stop_ and suddenly he was back to himself.

"Whoa," he whispered, jarred by how dull everything suddenly seemed.

That feeling faded quickly, however, when he realized that half dozen students in the room also making up work were staring at him. So was the teacher.

"... What?" he asked, feeling the high levels of scrutiny.

" 'What'?" one of his classmates, twelve year old Horace parroted. "... 'What'? A power conduit just flew across the room to your hand! Didn't you notice?"

Anakin blinked, looking down to the conduit, tracing back his memory. He had needed it and knew it was in a back cabinet... didn't he get up to get it...? No... so then, did he summon it to his hand? Like he was _always_ practicing at night to no avail?

"Whoa. Whoa! Wizard! I finally did it!"

"You mean that was supposed to happen?" Horace shouted.

"Enough," the teacher said, standing from her desk. "Anakin, may I speak with you outside?"

Anakin learned early on to dread that question. The other six stared as he morosely followed the teacher outside. This was the same teacher he had disrespected earlier; he knew it wasn't going to be good.

Imagine his surprise, then, when she crouched down to his level and simply asked, "What happened?"

Anakin wanted to wiggle out of it. "I was doing my make up work...?"

The teacher rubbed her forehead in a very Obi-Wan-like gesture. "You know that wasn't what I was referring to."

Anakin sulked. "It was something Obi-Wan taught me," he mumbled. "He's been training me morning and night, and yesterday he showed me something really cool with the Force, and I wanted to practice touching it when I wasn't racing."

"... the Force?" she prompted.

"Yeah," Anakin replied, still looking out the floor.

The teacher took a deep breath and ran a hand through her hair. "And your brother," she asked, "Wait, let me ask this correctly: Does Obi-Wan have the credentials to teach you about this 'Force,' and should you be learning it at such a young age?"

It was a sleight on Obi-Wan! Another one! Anakin's knee-jerk reaction was to retaliate - his mouth was already half open when he heard a small voice in the back of his mind, sounding like his mother: _"Stop. Think. Think about what she _is_ asking rather than what you _think_ she's asking."_ It took a lot of work to reword the questions and play around with the meanings. It was her rubbing her forehead, the Obi-Wan gesture, which made him figure it out.

"I'm not young, I'm old," he said slowly, looking once more at his feet. "Jedi start their training a lot younger. Kids at the Temple already know how to do this stuff. But Obi-Wan does have credentials, I think; he was knighted before we moved here, and Knights always have a Padawan, and I'm his Padawan. Sort of. It's... complicated."

When he dared to look up he saw the teacher staring and trying not to. "... Jedi..." Another deep breath and she put on a smile. "Anakin," she said gently, "I think it's wonderful that you're learning from your brother, and I can understand why you want to practice. " She paused, carefully picking out her words. "But there's a time and place for practicing your brother's curriculum, and there's a time and place for practicing our curriculum. Do you understand?"

"... You're saying I shouldn't use the Force at school." Anakin mumbled, dejecting and upset. Obi-Wan wasn't going to like this...

"Good. I say no harm, no foul. Let's go back and have you finish your make up work."

Anakin followed the teacher back into the lab room and saw four sets of eyes trying not to stare, and two sets of eyes that didn't even try to hide it. One, the twelve-year-old Horace, gave an open glare but said nothing. The teacher gave a meaningful look and his eyes finally lowered. Six-year-old Kohse, however, hopped right off her chair and crawled onto the one next to Anakin.

"How'd you do that?" she asked in an excited voice.

"Uh..." Anakin said intelligently, glancing at the teacher for direction.

Kohse kept going. "Can anyone do that?"

"No," the boy answered.

She looked downright crestfallen for a moment, but then she lit up again. "That's okay! That means you're special. I'm special too! Wanna know why?"

"Uh..."

"I can crack every bone in my body! Listen!" And without further delay the youngling started cracking her knuckles, her wrists, elbows, every joint one could think of. Anakin winced at all of the sounds, feeling phantom pains when she cracked her hips and her neck. "See! Now we're both special!"

"Uh, yeah, I guess we are," Anakin moaned, still twitching from all the noise he'd been forced to listen to.

"Can you be my friend?" Little Kohse asked, even more excited. "I've never had an older friend before because everyone thinks I'm a youngling, but now I know someone who's special like me and I'm really happy!"

It took a moment for Anakin to fully process Kohse's question, she talked very fast, but when he did his eyes widened. "You mean... you don't mind the Force? Or that I was a slave?" ... Just like Padme?

"No! I think it's amazing!"

"Take note, Mr. Skywalker," the teacher said with a smirk, "She'll make you a true diplomat of you. Excellent job Kohse."

"Thanks! ... But what did I do?"

"You used diplomacy to make a friend. I wish your classmates had that level of initiative." She gave a meaningful look to some of the other students.

Neither Anakin nor Kohse fully understood what happened, but Anakin at least decided he didn't care as he went back to work. Kohse stayed next to him and they worked together for the rest of the afternoon. Gifted as she was with diplomacy and negotiation, she didn't know the difference between an actuator and a repulsor gauge. It felt good to be helpful.

* * *

When it was over it was near dark, the sun was setting earlier and earlier. Because it was his day off, Obi-Wan wanted to pick Anakin up from school and do some kind of exercise on the walk back. As he waited by the main entrance looking for his brother, the older Horace stepped out.

"So how's a freak like you get to a quality school like this?"

Anakin turned. "What?"

"You heard me, freak. How's a stupid, freak slave trick everybody into thinkin' he belongs in this school?"

The boy felt anger surge in the back of his head, but attacks like this he knew how to handle. This was Greedo, or Sebulba, posing and posturing and trying to inspire fear. Anakin would never show fear, it never helped, and so instead he started posing himself. "I got in here because I belong here. I'm the only human to ever win a podrace, I'm going to be the best pilot in the galaxy, and I'm going to be the best Jedi in the galaxy."

Horace frowned, not expecting to hear the word Jedi. "Don't Jedi raise their kids in some fancy Temple in Coruscant? So why're you here and not there? You some kinda Temple-reject?"

That hit much too close to home, but Anakin still refused to show it. "Just get going, Horace," he said in a tight voice, "It won't be long before I beat you in more than just Engine Assembly."

Horace scoffed. "For a slave and a Temple-reject freak you have big delusions. Your brother feed you those lies? He a Temple-reject, too?"

Anakin saw red after that. There was a stiff uppercut followed by a brutal shove and Anakin had the older boy giving ground. He was shouting epitaphs in Huttese; this youngling had _no right_ to talk about him and especially Obi-Wan like that! It hurt even more because it was so close to the truth, Anakin really was a Temple-reject since they refused to train him and Obi-Wan had walked away from it all to train him. That bitchy Jedi Siri Tachi thought his brother was a reject, too, and to hear it from someone who had nothing to do with any of it made it all seem so much worse. It made him feel inadequate, feel like a failure and he hadn't even fully started yet; it made him feel like he'd let down his mother because she thought he was in the Temple being trained. He _hated_ feeling like that and he wanted to make it stop so he kept swinging and shoving.

The two fell over when Horace suffered a misstep on the curb. Horace seemed to come out of his shock, and the twelve year old started using his height and weight to his favor. He grabbed at Anakin's flailing fists, larger hands wrapping around smaller wrists and jerking them above the boy's head. Anakin got his feet under him and tried to stand, pulling himself free of one of Horace's hands. He lifted a foot up to kick the older boy in the face but Horace saw it coming. He twisted on the ground, getting his own feet under him, and rose to his feet. With his fist still wrapped around Anakin's wrist, the limb was twisted tightly and painfully behind Anakin's back.

Even angrier now, Anakin threw a glare over his shoulder. He just wanted to _shove the sleamo away_, and to his shock the Force answered the call. Horace jerked backward, taking Anakin's arm with him, and suddenly he felt a _wrench_ and pain exploded up his arm. He gasped as Horace tumbled back to the ground.

"Anakin!"

Obi-Wan was there, half jogging and sinking quickly to his knees, a hand reaching out to touch a shoulder. "Are you alright?" he asked quickly, eyes already looking down at Anakin's arm.

"He said I was a Temple-reject!" Anakin cried out. "He said _you _were a Temple-reject! He said I was a freak and didn't deserve to go to this school! He said-" Two fingers touched his forehead and Anakin felt a great release of pressure, the tight knot of his emotions lessening. It didn't help the pain, though, Anakin had broken something with that Force-push, and tears were stinging his eyes as waves and waves of pain shot up his arm. He refused to show them, not in front of Horace, and he glared at the boy for all he was worth.

"He attacked me first!" Horace was saying in his defense. "Did you see what that freak just did? He tried to kill me!"

Obi-Wan's eyes were closed; his head tilted back slightly in an expression Anakin had come to learn as weariness. He took a deep sigh and turned to face the twelve year old.

"What is your name, youngling?"

"I'm not a youngling, I don't have to tell you anything!"

"Horace," Anakin happily supplied.

Obi-Wan stood slowly, dusting off his trousers. Though he was in his work clothes, he was wearing his Jedi cloak, his arms hidden in the voluminous sleeves and hood dangling behind his back. He was at his full height, his gaze intense, his demeanor serious. This was Jedi Obi-Wan, the one you just _had_ to listen to.

"It has been my experience," Obi-Wan said slowly in calculated tones, "that those who seek to belittle others often feel like they are lacking something in themselves. If you try to raise your own self worth by putting down my Padawan, younger and smaller than you, one wonders just how deeply you feel this lack."

"I'm not inadequate!"

"I never said you were, and so I find it interesting that you assume that is what I meant. It tells me that you are a teenager in a school surrounded by younglings of lesser years than you; it tells me that you want every badly to be considered an adult. From this I infer that you are worried over your age. I infer that your friends of comparable age are already adults and out working. I infer that you hear the clock ticking and that you feel time is running out."

"Shut up!"

And then Obi-Wan smiled. "Much the same happened to me when I was your age. I almost wasn't taken on as an apprentice, and I was scared that I would be a failure." His face darkened slightly, and Anakin thought he heard Obi-Wan repeating Qui-Gon's name in his head with lots of complicated emotions. "But I was able to find who I needed. The same will happen to you. Far better to live in the now than in the future, as my master often told me."

Horace glared, his face flushed. "You... you..." But then his face contorted and he shouted, "If you had a master then you're just a slave too!" before getting up and running down the street.

Anakin and Obi-Wan both watched for a few moments, until the twelve year old disappeared around a corner; then Obi-Wan turned to face his Padawan. "And what do _you_ think you are lacking that would make you lash out like that?" he asked softly. His eyes were not on Anakin, they were on his broken arm, hands deftly tracing over sensitive areas, bits of Force leaking from his fingers.

"I'm no lacking anything!" Anakin protested defensively. "He started it!"

Obi-Wan looked up, his gaze intense but unreadable. "A Jedi must never act out in anger, Padawan," he said slowly, quietly, but with presence in his voice. "Emotions give us strength, but using them blindly, without a level head, only brings pain - only brings the Darkside. You were so focused on your anger that you did not think about how to use the Force, and the result is you broke your own arm, and that boy suffered nothing of your wrath." He paused, then, before asking, "Did his opinion of you change as a result of the fight?"

"... No," Anakin mumbled.

"Then the effort was fruitless. I suggest you keep that in mind the next time someone suffering from insecurity seeks to provoke you. Nothing good can ever come from anger."

It reminded Anakin very strongly of Qui-Gon, that time he got into a fight with the Rhodian Greedo, and what he said when the Jedi had pulled the two apart. That only made him feel worse, and he lowered his head, unable to look his brother in the face.

"Come on, let's get you to a medical facility. I don't have the skills to mend that break."

Anakin grimaced as he stood, but followed Obi-Wan in dejection.

* * *

Obi-Wan was carrying Anakin by the time they got to the med-center. Not just the arm was broken, specifically the wrist, but it seemed that when Anakin had Force-pushed that boy away, he'd also dislocated his own shoulder.

"I know this is difficult, Anakin, especially because this is your first time, but you need to concentrate. It _will_ help."

"I _know_," was the grunted response.

He'd been trying to show Anakin how to use the Force to help ignore the pain, but was getting nowhere. Anakin was still highly emotional after his confrontation and was still angry about what was said, to say nothing of how poorly he felt because of some perceived disappointment coming from Obi-Wan.

He let out a sigh. "Open the bond," he said quietly, feeling so very, very weary. Despite two days of rest, one of which being a proper healing trance and this wasn't helping. He had been meditating while Anakin had been at school, trying to regain balance in himself yet again, but he knew he never would until he faced what had happened with Qui-Gon and he just didn't have enough time for that. Obi-Wan was still dragged down by melancholy and he just couldn't seem to shake it for more than an hour or so at a time.

"Good, Anakin. You've gotten very good at this. Now watch."

Gently and slowly, Obi-Wan reached for the Force and sent his own aches and pains, minimal as they were, out into the Force. He could feel Anakin trying to mimic him, but with too much force and all at once.

"Slowly, Padawan. One piece at a time."

Anakin growled grumpily, the pain of his arm making him even more irritable than would be expected after getting into a fight. Still, Obi-Wan was quite proud of how his Padawan kept on trying until finally, in a burst of calm, he was able to do it.

"Whoa..." Anakin whispered. "Wizard! It's like I can still feel it and it isn't any less but it's just not..."

"Distracting?"

Anakin nodded vigorously before hissing. "Still there, but manageable."

"Excellent. Now let's see about actually getting treatment."

Anakin gave a small nod before nestling into the crook of his neck.

Obi-Wan's eyes rolled skyward. This was attachment. Every sign of attachment. Though Obi-Wan had to wonder what on earth he'd done to earn that. He should be discouraging it, telling Anakin to rely on the Force, not on him. (After all, his master had relied on him and look were _that_ had ended up... Obi-Wan scolded himself for such thoughts, no matter how true they were...) But Obi-Wan was tired and he knew that for nine years of his life, Anakin had nothing but loving attachment with his mother. To completely stop that would be the harshest form of cruelty that Obi-Wan could think of.

The love of families and their bonds were something that Jedi held in very high regard. But it wasn't something that they could risk for themselves, there just too many possible dangers of sinking to the Darkside. It was why Jedi children were taken so young, to prevent the harsh break from families that could scar a youngling and provide another route to the Darkside.

Obi-Wan needed to figure out how to wean Anakin off of such attachment but now was not the time. Anakin seemed to understand that he was reluctant to show much affection and was satisfied whenever Obi-Wan felt it absolutely necessary to give it. And, though Obi-Wan didn't even want to admit it to himself, he liked giving those signs of affection. It warmed a part of him that was still so lost and alone. Even now, he took a moment to squeeze Anakin as, he told himself, a gesture of his pride in what Anakin could do, and letting himself do that just eased an ache he didn't want to acknowledge.

Anakin was all he really had. Obi-Wan just didn't want to admit that he clung to the boy as much as Anakin clung to him.

They entered Theed's medical center and the receptionist smiled at them.

"Welcome, how can I help you?"

Obi-Wan nodded his head to his Padawan. "While I have training in field medics, I've not the talent for healing. He has a dislocated shoulder and a broken wrist." He scanned Anakin again with the Force. "And some rather bruised pride, but I'll be handling that."

Anakin pulled away enough to scowl at Obi-Wan horribly.

The receptionist smiled. "Let me call down to the ER. Someone should be here in a moment to guide you down there."

Obi-Wan nodded his thanks and sat in the small lobby, Anakin still in his arms, looking at him curiously. "You know some medical stuff?" he asked.

"Yes," Obi-Wan replied. "It was part of my training and all Jedi know the basics. One never knew when things would go badly and one had to be prepared." He gave a cracked smile. "There was one mission we were on when I was, oh, sixteen I think, and my Master dislocated his shoulder much as you have. It was the first time I'd ever had to set one. I must admit, all the knowledge in the world isn't the same as practical experience."

"I bet Qui-Gon didn't even flinch," Anakin smiled.

Obi-Wan couldn't quite hold back the chuckle. "Oh, he flinched all right. He damn near convulsed. I hadn't warned him and he was trying to do some Force healing on another injury he had and didn't realize what I was doing." He looked aside. "I thought I'd hurt him."

"But you didn't," Anakin insisted. "He was fine when I met him, so you musta done great!"

"Oh yes. After he'd told me to _warn_ him next time and swearing a blue streak about how his head was aching from breaking his concentration, he did say that I did a very good job."

Anakin frowned at him, though Obi-Wan wasn't sure why, and poked at him with his good arm. "So why don't you set my arm? It can't be any good dislocated like it is."

Obi-Wan hesitated. "It will hurt Anakin. A lot. Even with the Force to help manage the pain, there will _still_ be pain. And your grip on the Force is still new. The shock of it will undoubtedly make you lose your grasp." Anakin had had a difficult enough day. "I am not a trained healer. My medical knowledge involves keeping someone in one piece until a proper healer can take a look."

"Then it's a good thing you came straight here."

Obi-Wan and Anakin, as one, turned and looked at the healer, white coat and all. The woman was middle-aged, dark hair streaked heavily with gray. "So, you must be the most well-behaved boy I've ever seen who's got a dislocated shoulder and broken wrist."

"Oh it hurts!" Anakin replied. "It hurts worse than my first crash, but Obi-Wan showed me how to handle it."

The healer raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. "Well, then, if you two could come with me? I'm Healer Koilana Dalamone."

"Thank you, Healer Dalamone."

"Please, just Koilana." She took the two of them down a wide hall to a large, open room with curtained off areas for privacy. Once in one of the curtained "rooms", she handed Obi-Wan a datapad.

"Now, if you would please fill this out while I examine Anakin?"

"Of course." Forms ran bureaucracy after all. Even in medcenters. As he started to fill in the pertinent information like names, address, contact information, etc, Obi-Wan could feel Anakin clutching on the bond as the healer poked and prodded and brought in a nurse to help pop the shoulder back into place. He sent soothing waves of calm and when Anakin cried out as his shoulder was fixed, Obi-Wan put down his datapad and came over.

Anakin latched his free hand onto Obi-Wan's wrist, not even whimpering after that initial cry. Obi-Wan frowned. He knew that having a joint relocated was painful, and even Qui-Gon, after Obi-Wan had set it, had grunted as he moved. Anakin didn't utter a sound, merely scrunched up his face and held on tight.

Concerned, Obi-Wan reached through the bond more directly, offering strength and calm. Anakin grabbed onto it almost instinctually and Obi-Wan thought he saw pictures of a Hutt, one whose cruelty to property was known to be worse if one made a sound. A previous owner, but not Watto, thank the stars.

"It's alright, Anakin," Obi-Wan said quietly. "You're not in that place any more. I won't think any less of you."

Anakin took a breath but just shook his head, holding Obi-Wan's wrist closer. Obi-Wan ran his free hand through Anakin's hair and rested it on Anakin's good shoulder. "It's alright, Padawan. You don't need to hold it inside. I'm here. Holding back like this might do you more harm in the long run."

"It's weakness," Anakin muttered, wrapping what he could of himself around Obi-Wan's wrist.

Obi-Wan frowned, leaning down to put his forehead against Anakin's. "Crying, being upset, expressing pain. It's not a weakness. Stars above know that I have cried many, many times over the years."

Anakin sobbed and held tighter, but did not cry. "You only cried once," he mumbled.

And yet again, there was that painfully familiar ache in his chest from the hole that Qui-Gon had left behind. Obi-Wan had only cried once after Qui-Gon's death; in front of Anakin. Since then, he'd done everything he could to remain busy and occupied. Anakin needed him, and needed him as a strong Knight to help guide and nurture him. Not an orphaned Padawan who wanted nothing more than to curl in a ball and just ignore the world.

Had he been doing it wrong? Setting forth a bad example? Even Jedi cried, for it was a release of emotions. And if there was one thing Anakin needed help with was releasing his emotions. Particularly releasing them constructively, if that afternoon's fight was any indication.

Had he been messing up from the start?

How could he be any good for Anakin like this?

"_All you have is the moment, Padawan mine. Worrying over past mistakes, wondering at the future, they do not help you do what is needed in the here and now._"

Obi-Wan let out a long, tired sigh, shoving all his emotion away. Anakin needed him. That was his first and only priority.

"Perhaps that has been wrong of me," he said quietly. "I have been trying to keep occupied since that night and I work on my grief at night after you are asleep so that I don't have to bother you. You've had enough going on."

The healer applied an IV patch that made Anakin give out a sigh of relief as some sort of painkillers were finally given, but Anakin did not let go.

"Obi-Wan," Anakin started, but got no further as Koilana politely cleared her throat.

"We need to take him down to X-Ray," she said softly, yet brusquely. "If you would wait here, we should be back shortly." She glanced at the discarded datapad. "And please finish filling out the forms."

Obi-Wan nodded, squeezing Anakin's good shoulder and running a hand through the blond locks and sending calm through the Force. Anakin wiped his eyes and took a deep breath. Glancing at Obi-Wan, he finally released his deathgrip and looked to Koilana. "Ready when you are," he said. "So, I hear that medcenters give treats to kids. Will I get one?"

The healer chuckled as she listed a few things on her own datapad. "I'm not sure. I hear that I'm apparently notorious for sweets whenever a youngling ends up in my ER, but I don't have anyone to compare to other than myself."

"Neither do I," Anakin said brightly. "Maybe I can use you as my standard?"

"One hopes you don't end up in the ER often."

"I wouldn't know. I don't think I've _ever_ been in a medcenter before, let alone an ER."

The nurse giggled and Obi-Wan watched as they wheeled Anakin away. He picked up the datapad and, not seeing any chairs nearby, leaned onto the counter of the nurse's station to start inputting data. So much information required for bureaucracy. When were Anakin's last immunizations, had he suffered any broken bones before, any preexisting medical ailments to be aware of, allergies to certain medicines, the list went on and on. Most he already knew, some he skipped until he could talk to Anakin (after all, the boy _had_ been a podracer... and had crashed if his earlier statement was any indication, Obi-Wan just didn't know...)

There was one blank however, that he wasn't certain of and couldn't ask Anakin about.

Insurance.

Obi-Wan racked his brain trying to recall if he'd filled out any insurance forms in the myriad of filework that he'd done both in getting a job and with Shamde. He was fairly certain that he hadn't done any such forms with Shamde, and given that employers usually gave insurance to their employees, it was likely that Obi-Wan had filled something out once his foreman had agreed to hire him. But that day... was a very emotional one. Very draining. He'd been at his absolute worst by the end of the day, and he'd been working hard not to slide back down to that despair and hopelessness because Anakin needed him. He'd cut off his braid because he was no longer a child and it was high time he started acting like it.

With a heavy sigh, Obi-Wan took a deep breath, hoping to slip into a light meditation to recall events of that day with more clarity and hopefully if he'd filled out any insurance files.

He never got that far, however, when he heard a familiar voice.

"Needin' helpin'! Yous _Hisen_ havin' a heala?"

Obi-Wan turned. "Augara?"

Sure enough, the dark brown Gungan was helping to hold up an older human that Obi-Wan also recognized. He rushed forward with the nurses, already calling on the Force to scan the man.

"Obi! What yousa doin' helaa?"

"Anakin got into a fight," he said hurriedly. "This is Vidar, isn't it? He has a cracked rib, broken femur, to say nothing of the fractures on his skull! A concussion, at least; Augara, what _happened_?"

Together, they helped lift the heavily built man onto a gurney as a page came over the system for a healer to come immediately to the ER. Vidar gave a weak cough, looking around blearily, struggling to get up.

"A beam fallin'," Augara explained, trying to help hold Vidar down. "Hesa no movin' fast enough. Oof!" Vidar somehow had the strength to hit Augara right on the bill and nurses were already calling for a sedative patch.

Obi-Wan knew his method would be faster. Gently pushing aside a nurse, Obi-Wan held Vidar's bloody head, looked right into his eyes and said, "Sleep," with firm gentleness. The man slumped back to the gurney, nurses already catching him and letting him down gently.

With Vidar finally quiet, Augara stepped back and Obi-Wan did as well until a nurse grabbed him. "You said concussion, cracked rib, and broken femur? Where?"

Obi-Wan stepped back to Vidar's side and started pointing what he saw. He put his hand over the break in the femur, "A clean break, all the way through, about ten centimeters from the hip, no stress signs from walking here," before swiftly pointing at the ribs, "Cracked fifth rib on the left side, looks very fragile," he narrowed his eyes, "and a hairline fracture on the sixth, though I may be wrong," and finally he glided his fingers just over Vidar's head, "A web from the parietal down to the left temporal, with one crack reaching to the frontal. Those are obvious, and I'm probably missing many of the smaller injuries, but there's no damage to the brain that I can feel." He stepped back. "I'm useless at telling if there's anything wrong with the organs. I've never had the talent for healing."

The nurse nodded and said nothing else as they rushed to get Vidar deeper into the medcenter.

"Yousa hidin' _mui_ talents," Augara let out a breath. "Yousa chosin' buildin' why? Yousa coulda doin' anyt'in' yousa wantin'."

Before Obi-Wan even had the chance to reply, a nurse came forward, grabbed his sleeve, and started tugging. "If you've had medical training like you say," she said condescendingly, "you should know you _never_ touch a person's blood! Do you have _any_ idea how many pathogens are transmitted through blood? You _idiot_," she growled.

"_Field_ medics milady," Obi-Wan replied. She shoved him into a room with a sink and was already pushing him too it. "In the field, where supplies aren't always handy. I've had to do basic medicine in fields, swamps, and once in a warzone."

"_So_?" she snarled, her gloved hands scrubbing his thoroughly under the water. "You should still _know_ better, you moron!"

Clearly, this woman wouldn't be one to handle the public regularly. Obi-Wan couldn't help the chuckle.

"Don't laugh at me, you scruffy nerf-herder!"

"_Scruffy_?" Oh come now, Jedi often wore their hair long... But then, the average Nabooan male did not. He probably did look unusual. He sighed. Maybe he should at least pull it back.

Later. More important things to do now... like finishing those damn forms.

"I appreciate your concern," he said, pulling away from the sink. "But I still have forms I need to fill out and-"

She ignored him utterly, grabbed his sleeves, and started cutting them off at the elbows.

"I _beg_ your pardon," he pulled away a bit more forcefully. This was his Jedi tunic and she was going to just slice them up? Why?

"Those sleeves are covered in blood and with a youngling to look after you will _not_ be spreading anything to him," she said flatly. "Now come here," she reached forward again.

He sidestepped easily. "I _do_ know how to wash blood out," he said firmly. "There's no need for you to be-"

"Then you need to go home shirtless."

"_What_?"

"If you don't want any infections, give me that damn tunic and I'll put it in a biohazard bag and you can go home shirtless," she said stiffly. "But with the weather getting colder, you'll probably catch your death, so it's better if I just _cut off those sleeves_."

"I..." A thousand thoughts were running through Obi-Wan's mind. How the trial of Nute Gunray was coming up and he needed to look every inch the Jedi he no longer was and this was the only tunic he had from before he'd left the Jedi. How clothes, even at cheap stores, would still be an expense in to his tiny paycheck. How this tunic was one of his last connections he still had with being a Jedi and he just didn't want to part with it. But that was attachment, something he needed to wean Anakin off of, but how could he when he didn't even want to let go of a piece of clothing?

His shoulders slumped. "It's just clothing," he told himself. "Just clothing. Nothing more, nothing less." He untied his obi and deftly removed the tunic, handing it to the grouchy nurse. "I don't suppose you have something I could wear?" She held the tunic like it was a rag in her gloved hands and dumped it into the biohazard bin.

"I'm sure I can scrounge something up," she grumbled. She then shoved him, shirtless out the door. "Now go finish those forms!"

Utterly embarrassed at being half-naked, Obi-Wan, blushing brightly, returned to the nurse's station where Augara took one look at him and laughed. "Obi, yousa no match for a fightin' female, nosa."

"I rather doubt any man is," Obi-Wan replied, feeling like all the nurses were staring at him. "Hopefully that unpleasant woman will provide me with something to wear."

He grabbed the datapad. "Augara, you might remember better than me. What insurance is our grouchy foreman providing for us?"

Augara frowned, closing his eyestalks to think for a moment. "Mesa no thinkin' wesa _have_ 'surance," he replied. "Mesa already losin' pay for bringin' Vidar here. Others whosa go gettin' hurt say nosa 'surance."

Obi-Wan blinked. "We don't have any insurance? No health plans? Anything?"

Augara shook his head, long ears flapping. "_Mui_ ot'ers sayin' deysa gettin' behind on-a de bills."

He was certain his stomach was somewhere down in the basement. "Behind on their bills?" Oh dear. Oh _dear_. The Temple had always taken care of expenses, and if one needed treatment outside of the Halls of Healing, all a Jedi needed to do was file it with the report and it would be taken care of. Just how expensive _were_ medcenter bills?

He turned to the nurse covering the station. "Excuse me," he asked, "but roughly how much will it cost for Anakin to get his treatment?"

The nurse frowned. "You said you don't have insurance?" he asked.

"No, I don't think we do," Obi-Wan replied.

The nurse frowned, looking sympathetic.

Obi-Wan closed his eyes and lowered his head to his hands. They managed paycheck to paycheck. Any savings they'd managed to accumulate were pitiful, at best and Obi-Wan worked every chance he could as it was. Even if he took on _another_ shift, every other day, that would cut into his time training Anakin and that just wasn't acceptable. Nor could he have Anakin go out and do chores-for-pay, for the same reason.

_What_ were they going to do?

"Hey Obi-Wan! Why'd you lose your shirt? And what's Augara doing here?" called Anakin as Koilana wheeled him back from X-Ray.

Obi-Wan took a breath. A deep breath. And then another. Composure. He needed his composure.

There was a tentative poke at the bond. "Obi-Wan?"

Another deep breath and he looked up. "Augara brought in a colleague of ours who was injured at the jobsite. I helped settle him down and got blood all over me," he replied. "A nurse said she'd get me a clean shirt. Now, how are you doing?"

Augara put a hand on his shoulder, but Obi-Wan merely nodded and brushed it off, heading to his Padawan.

"Oh, your little brother here is quite the charmer," Koilana smiled. "And very well-behaved, if you ignore why he ended up here in the first place."

"I see you have a cast," Obi-Wan looked at the thin, hard wrapping around Anakin's wrist. "How long will it be on?"

"Three weeks!" Anakin sounded petulant. "And you were going to show me those new forms tomorrow! Now that's going to have to wait!"

Obi-Wan reached out to ruffle his Padawan's hair, needing the comfort of giving the affection. "Then perhaps now you'll see why fights are rather pointless if you can avoid them."

Anakin huffed, but didn't argue.

"So, can we go home today?"

"Yes," Koilana replied. "We have no reason to keep him here. Just make sure he takes it easy with that arm and when we remove the cast, we'll talk about how to build strength back into the muscles. Minimize usage of the shoulder, it will be sore after being popped back, but the bacta we've applied will be what allows any movement at all."

Obi-Wan nodded. "And," he hesitated, "When might we expect the bill to arrive?"

Koilana frowned, but remained a professional. "Given how long filework takes with filing and such, by the time you come in for removing the cast."

Good. There was a little time to... do something... work out _something_.

"Now Anakin," he said, still running a hand through the blond locks. "Let's go home. We have much to discuss."

How _were_ the two of them going to do this?

* * *

**Author's Notes:** Another sign of greatness, Obi-Wan p0wns fighting children. Though really that doesn't take much... :D And Anakin keeps trying. He'll get it eventually; like when he's twenty. Though with the psychological scaring of slavery one wonders if he'll ever learn to not clutch what he thinks is his so tightly. Would that any of us could...

The fight with Horace shows Anakin why anger is bad, in a way Anakin couldn't really learn at the Temple. This little bit is very important for him. He's working withe the Force and given his natural talent with it, he's catching up, even if hes not training all day the way he would at the Temple. By confronting Horace and doing more damage to himself than what he wanted, Obi-Wan is able to see some of the pitfalls in a different light than what he would at the more reserved Temple.

It's a way to nip some of Anakin's problems in the bud. He doesn't have to hide as much as he would at the Temple. And Anakin makes a friend, which he didn't in the Temple until he was almost fifteen (Tru Veld).

Poor Anakin. He learned early on not to express pain and Obi-Wan's only just realizing this tendency and will have to compensate for it. And naturally, in the middle of dealing with it, he's interrupted. Hehehe. Obi-Wan's still in depression and backslides a bit, but not horrendously so.

And life plays it's joke again on Obi-Wan, this time with insurance.

I heard this story third hand, so it probably isn't true, but once upon a time there was a TV show where people lived out wishes/fantasies or some such. One episode, the young couple wanted to spend six months living below the poverty line for the experience. The girl got a job waitressing, the guy got a job doing manual labor. They were making ends meet, much like Obi-Wan, but there were no savings to speak of, and when the guy finally got injured on site, since they couldn't afford health insurance, the bills of getting treatment were astronomical and there wasn't even a co-pay. Our mother's hospital bill when all was said and done was seventy thousand dollars - more than our father makes in a year, and our father was in the hospital for over a month with his surgery. Imagine not having insurance to pay that! Now the screws are on Obi-Wan, and, finally, he takes action.

**Nest chapter:** An arrest.


	10. Chapter 10

**Part Ten**

There was nothing left to do. Obi-Wan and Anakin had spent most of the night estimating what the medical bill would be and, truth be told, they both knew it was going to be exuberant. Obi-Wan was once again cursing his never-ending naivete; all his time as a Jedi, all his time in the _Halls of Healing_, and it never occurred to him to know how much it all cost; they had _one hundred_ bacta tanks that the Coruscant hospitals used in emergencies, the healing Crystals of Fire that only Jedi knew about and could use, all the bandages and medicines and gauze and other amenities all had to come from somewhere, had to be paid by someone. The commissions from their work must have gone to it in part, and suddenly Obi-Wan was wondering just how much their commissions cost. His head hurt by the time the pair had at last gone to bed. Anakin had trouble sleeping because of his cast and shoulder, and he kept curling into Obi-Wan's side, nuzzling into his night tunic and offering soft moans and mutters.

There was simply not enough time in the day to take on another shift, not and still train Anakin even remotely to Jedi standards. Anakin once more offered to do odd jobs for money, but even so Obi-Wan doubted the income would be sufficient to pay the upcoming medical bill; they were already only barely scraping by. They couldn't sacrifice more food or any other necessity. They were at their wits end, and hours after Anakin finally could fall asleep Obi-Wan was awake, staring at the ceiling, cursing himself and praying forgiveness from Qui-Gon as he once more failed his Master in this last and most important promise.

There was nothing left to do; he had to ask for more money from his employer, the foreman.

He already knew what the reaction would be.

His mind was elsewhere, he was _exhausted_, but still he got up before dawn and gently tugged Anakin out of bed and out into the main boulevard. Instead of moving through Form I, the pair knelt together on the ground and meditated. Anakin of course found it difficult to concentrate, and the sun was coming up before they both could sink into the Force, and Obi-Wan slowly took him through the sutras.

When they at last stood, Obi-Wan found a woman walking up to them. "Is the boy alright?" she asked.

Obi-Wan blinked.

"Yeah!" Anakin said brightly. "I broke a wrist and I popped my shoulder, but it's fine now!"

"Oh, I see," the woman said. "I'm sorry I won't be able to watch your exercises for a while, then. They're so beautiful to see in the morning; it's the best way to start the day. I hope you feel better soon!" she added, waving brightly before dashing away, back to whatever job she was headed for. "Oh," she added several meters away, turning around. "Let me know where I can sign up for those lessons next time, alright?"

Obi-Wan turned bright red. "People watch us...?" How embarrassing!

"Maybe we can get money that way!" Anakin said brightly, thrilled at the idea.

Oh no, oh _noooo_ it didn't work that way... Obi-Wan audibly groaned and put a hand to his face, rubbing it. "Isn't it time for you to change for school?"

Anakin nodded. "I'll do some research doing my study periods and ask the teachers what kinds of salaries they get and let you know. See you at lunch!"

Obi-Wan didn't even have time to protest before the boy dashed off, no less energy than if he hadn't just been to a medcenter. The former Jedi could only sigh as yet another thing seemed to run away from him, and he took a deep breath, resolving that he would at least get one thing right today. Turning, he started implementing his limited plan.

Circling around, he started talking to some of the other first shift workers - specifically those that didn't work for his foreman. He asked about any collective bargaining organizations they were a part of; he was forced to cycle through several names until he finally got a reaction on the word "union." Obi-Wan learned very quickly that the types of disputes he and his master negotiated were extreme cases - to be expected given they were galactic peacekeepers. On small scale, workers belonged to unions and unions bargained with employer or corporate teams over contracts, minimum wages, work time, employee health and safety, discrimination, dismissal, and child labor. Most of the men and women he talked to were part of the union but not active participants. Obi-Wan could not get the details he desired, but he was able to discretely ask about pay and conditions and other basics that his fellow day laborers experienced, and that gave him a rough outline to shoot for. It also showed him, even more, how stupid he had been to accept the job the foreman had offered - it was blatantly unfair but he had been so desperate for work and so uncertain of what to expect he had grabbed the first offer he had, at last, received. He was certain Qui-Gon was in the Force, frowning in disapproval.

_"Mistakes are not marks of shame, Padawan mine, they were opportunities to learn. Repudiating yourself will serve no purpose and only delay what needs to be done."_

Obi-Wan steeled himself, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, focusing on his self-imposed task, and reached to the Force. It touched him back, a gentle caress on his presence.

He marched over to the foreman, already on the worksite. "Sir, I would like to speak with you."

"Make it quick," the man said, "time is money."

"Yes, sir. I would like to negotiate a new contract for myself and for the other employees under your care."

The foreman looked up from his clipboard - a rarity indeed. "You what?" he demanded.

"I have been speaking with other laborers from other sites and have come to the realization that some features that are standard for construction employees seem to be lacking in the contracts that I and others have signed. I'm certain it is but a simple oversight, and so I hoped to bring the matter to your attention and that we may fix the problem together in a way that is beneficial to both your superiors and your subordinates."

The foreman blinked. "You're fired," he growled.

Obi-Wan blinked. "I beg your pardon?"

"The firm's belly up, there's no money to spend on fringe benefits like holidays and weekends."

"Or health care? Or paying your employees minimum wage? Or ensuring their safety with proper equipment?"

"Get off the site, you're fired. I ain't gonna speak to some dreg from the lowrises who suddenly thinks he's educated. Good luck feeding that kid of yours."

And he walked away.

For a split second Obi-Wan felt blinding panic. No work meant no money meant no food and no rent - space, with the way old man Jafan chased after his tenants they'd be evicted that evening! The foreman was known to blacklist his employees, he wouldn't be able to get a job and... A breath and the split second past. This was personal, true, but it was still a negotiation, and Obi-Wan was more than adequately trained. Qui-Gon saw to that.

In three steps Obi-Wan once more placed himself in front of the foreman. The overseer did not respect Obi-Wan, and he'd participated in one or two missions where Jedi were looked down on. A demonstration of resolve was in order. "Sir," he said politely, "I am afraid I cannot leave here until the contracts have been renegotiated. If I leave you will be forced to go into mediation, and that would be a waste of everyone's time."

"Leave or I'll have you removed."

Obi-Wan's gaze hardened. "I will not."

The foreman started speaking on his radio, and as he did the Gungan Augara came over. "Obi? Whatsa going on?"

"I am attempting to renegotiate our contracts so that we may be treated more fairly," Obi-Wan answered, his hard eyes never leaving the foreman. "My overtures have been met with my walking files."

Augara's eyes nearly popped out of their eyestalks. "What? Hesa fired you?"

"So it would seem, and he's currently calling security to have my physically removed from site." He gave a small, slightly sad grin as he turned to his Gungan friend. "You may want to distance yourself from me; I imagine things are about to get a little less than cordial."

"Disa no fair!" Augara exclaimed, stomping a foot onto the ground. "Hesa havin' no right for doin' dis!"

"I don't disagree," Obi-Wan said, "but if he is gong to respect my voice he will have to see that I will not back own." He saw the foreman again walk away, and to Augara he said, "This will take a while. I will see you later I hope," and the former Jedi simply followed, standing in front of the other man and saying nothing.

It was, perhaps, twenty minutes before Naboo security guards finally arrived on site. One was a burly man with thick arms and the other a woman of dark skin and toned muscles. He had had a lot of time to think, and with a clearer mind Obi-Wan had narrowed down his options and discovered one to two advantages he had. He knew that this negotiation in the long term would go well, but the short term petrified him, and so he did not think on it; one problem at a time, as his master sometimes said.

The woman walked right up to the foreman. "We got a report of a disturbance of the peace. What seems to be the problem here?"

"This dreg won't leave the work site. I fired him and he's trying to raise a stink over it," the foreman said, once more looking at his omnipresent clipboard.

The burly security guard turned to Obi-Wan. "You were fired?"

Obi-Wan had already prepared his answer. "I believe a more precise phrase is an illegal termination."

"What?" the guard asked.

"Unless things have changed radically in the last several months, galactic law states that it is illegal to terminate any employee because of association to or disagreements with a collective bargaining group. A union. I approached the foreman this morning and offered to help him renegotiate the contracts of myself and the other employees to a more mutually beneficial arrangement. That was when he terminated me."

"Stupid dreg's lying now," the foreman accused impassively, still working on his clipboard. "I fired him because he's a lazy sack of skin. He doesn't do his job."

Obi-Wan expected that and turned to the two security guards. "You may speak with anyone on the job site. I perform admirably."

"So," the burly guard said, "Point is you've been asked to leave."

"I've made no disturbance, used no abusive language, had no intention of anything other than renegotiating my contract."

"Come on, sir."

"I will not leave unless you arrest me."

The two guards looked at each other. Security forces were a unionized faction as well, and Obi-Wan had met more than a few officers and policemen who took their contracts very, very seriously. Throwing out terms like "illegal termination" and "renegotiation" hit a very sensitive button. Many galactic employees had studied the old labor riots on Coruscant several hundred years ago, when security laid down their weapons and joined the protesters. Like the Jedi that still remembered the Sith, the Unions still remembered the Coruscant Strikes. Also, this was one man's word against another and no physical advances had been made, making the waters very muddy for the two. As yet, with no obvious disturbance of the peace, there simply was not enough ground to arrest Obi-Wan. It was a judgment call, on neither of them were comfortable making.

"Well?" the foreman demanded. "Get him off _my_ site."

"Nosa, no! Disa bombad mistake!"

Obi-Wan blinked, surprised as he turned to see Augara and the dozen other fellow employees standing, watching the scene. The surprise evaporated quickly, however, as he realized what an opportunity he had been given. To Augara, he asked, "What are you doing?" while glancing to watch the reactions of the foreman and the security guards.

"Wesa helpin' you," Augara said, marching to the front. "If you arrestin' Obi, you arrestin' all of us! We wantin' better work conditions and better payin'. Nobody leavin' until wesa heard!"

Obi-Wan calmly turned to the foreman. "Sir?" he asked politely, "Will you fire them as well? In front of security no less?"

The foreman scoffed and looked at the security guards. "You wanted a disturbance of the peace? Now you got one. He's keeping my employees from doing their job."

Obi-Wan closed his eyes. He knew this was a possible scenario; he had hoped for Anakin's sake that it would not come about. Even as the burly guard put a hand on his shoulder he turned once more to Augara. "After your shift," he said, "talk to the other companies here, ask to speak to union representatives. Tell them about Vidar, about the conditions and the wages, tell them everything."

"But what about you?" Augara demanded.

Obi-Wan offered a wry smile. "I've been captured and interrogated before, I doubt this will be anything like those times." He remembered his very first bout of indentured servitude, on Bandomeer with the Hutt corporation Offworld, and the many other times since. This would be a walk in the park by comparison. Turning back to the guards, he said, "Is there anything I should be aware of? Any procedure you wish me to follow?"

The dark skinned woman, quiet up to now, asked, "Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Want is a word that means very little to me," Obi-Wan replied. "I simply do what I must."

Binders were clasped to his wrist and he calmly followed the two security guards to their transport. Processing, as the guards described it, took several hours of hurrying up and waiting. It was almost lunch before he realized Anakin would be looking for him and wouldn't be there. Anakin was independent, he could more than take care of himself, even injured as he was, but his emotional state would be on entirely different story. He would pitch a fit worse than what lead up to his broken wrist in the first place. He needed some way to run interference before the boy started using the Force in his anger.

"Excuse me," he said politely to the dark skinned man who was processing him. "Is it possible for me to contact someone?"

"Your litigator?"

"Alas, I don't have that, but there are two people who should know of my current situation."

"Well, you can only call one," the man said.

Obi-Wan internally groaned, knowing this would also upset Anakin. "Her name is Shamde Orlie. She is a social worker." If he called Anakin first he would drop everything to be with him; and it simply wouldn't be helpful for either of them.

* * *

It was well into the afternoon when he had any visitors to his cell. He had been deep in meditation, listening to the quiet puzzlement of the security that couldn't understand why he was there when he saw bright visions of a frying pan and heard a long string of Huttese expletives.

_Oh, dear_, he thought to himself.

"Language, Anakin," he said, opening his eyes.

Anakin merely scowled in response and started swearing vehemently out loud. "You shoulda _called_ me!" he shouted. "You _said_ you'd call me and you _didn't_ and-"

Obi-Wan looked down. "You were my first thought to call," he replied quietly.

Anakin quieted, but still glared sourly at him. "But I was only allowed one call."

"And that _shoulda_ been _me_!"

Obi-Wan narrowed his eyes. "Actually, I can say your displaying every reason why I _shouldn't_ have called you first. You would have dropped everything and come rushing over. Did you even go back to school when you realized I wasn't at the jobsite?"

Anakin sputtered indignantly before yelling, "_That's entirely beside the point_!"

The dark-skinned guard, Mayuntha Typho, giggled.

Obi-Wan turned to her. "Milady Typho, I appreciate your concern, but could you not laugh at him? It makes matters worse."

"Sorry," she replied, "he just reminded me of my son Gregar when he was that age."

Shamde took the opportunity to finally get a word in. "Might we be allowed in to see Mr. Kenobi?"

Mayuntha sighed. "A moment for procedure," she replied, running a wand over both of them. Once they were all clear, she activated a panel and let the two into Obi-Wan's cell, closing the force field behind them.

Anakin stomped right up to Obi-Wan and, much like Siri had before, punched him. "You _idiot_! What'd you do to get arrested? And why was Augara and everyone so upset about it when I got to your job?"

Obi-Wan ignored the question. "Anakin, your shoulder!" he admonished, He immediately reached out, running his hands along the shoulder that had only just been reset, scanning with the Force and sending soothing waves, in case it was hurting. "You only just got out of the med-center and Healer Koilana _told_ you not to move it around so much."

Anakin wasn't listening. "I was _worried_!" he cried out. "You weren't _there_ and no one would say anything until Augara explained that you said something to the foreman and got yourself _fired_ and _arrested_ and I thought we didn't have any credits so _why_ did you go and get yourself canned?"

Shamde sat down with them. "Yes, I have to wonder why you decided it was a good idea to lose your primary and solitary source of income."

Obi-Wan sighed, running a hand through his lengthening hair. "While I have left the Order, I am still a Jedi. I do what I must."

"That answer's not _good_ enough, Obi-Wan!" Anakin stomped his foot down again.

"Anakin, you've every right to be upset," he said, straightening. "But you're letting your upset and anger control you. Take a breath and calm down. Yelling at me won't solve anything."

Anakin was still fuming, but he sat down in a huff and crossed his arms, glaring at him. Obi-wan decided that he would take what he could get.

"I talked to many other workers this morning on my way to work," he said. "I've come to the realization that the contracts that Augara, Vidar, myself and all the other workers signed, _aren't_ industry standard. Not even close. To say nothing of how our dear foreman will dock our pay at the slightest inclination. We weren't being treated fairly and I decided a renegotiation was in order. When I brought that up, that was when I was illegally fired."

Anakin was still frowning, but Shamde was jotting notes down quickly.

"As a Jedi, I've a great deal of experience in negotiation and mediation. So I peacefully continued to insist that we negotiate." Obi-Wan shrugged. "I expected that I'd be forcibly removed from the site. This is hardly the first time I've been incarcerated and I must say that the Nabooan are very, very kind to their prisoners."

Anakin's mercurial nature shifted as he went from angry to curious. "You've been in jail before? How? What happened?"

Obi-Wan smiled. "Those stories, Padawan, are best left for another day." He turned to Shamde. "In the long run, I believe it will work out. I doubt that my attempts at collective bargaining will end up anything like the Courscant Strikes from centuries past. But the short term is my immediate concern."

"No doubt," Shamde replied, ever the professional. "What do you need from me?"

Obi-Wan sighed, and for a brief moment, his exhaustion grabbed hold of him. He hadn't slept at all the previous night, his intended days of break had been cut short once Anakin had needed to visit a med-center. He wasn't at a breaking point, at least in terms of physical stamina. But he was still _grieving_ and _mourning_ and he had been like this for _months_. Anakin helped, but at times like this when Obi-Wan had to make decisions that Anakin just didn't understand, that he felt most alone. So very, very alone.

"_You are never alone so long as the Force is with you_."

Sound advice from his master, words he tried so very hard to live by, but while he was absolutely certain he was doing the right thing by staying with Anakin, he didn't know completely on whether or not the Force was really with him in this choice.

Anakin was suddenly in his arms and Obi-Wan couldn't stop the instinct to just hold on tight, despite the fact that it was a sign of attachment.

"I..." he swallowed. "I need help, Milady Orlie. I need help." A deep breath and he was sitting up straighter again, and Anakin was still close in his arms. "I won't have Anakin ending up in whatever Nabooan equivalent of social services you have here just because I'm in jail and can't look after him. Our landlord Jafan is quite exacting in getting his rent on time and I expect that he'll evict us once he finds out I've been fired." Obi-Wan rubbed his temple. "We have enough food for the week, though I hope to not be in here that long."

Obi-Wan turned to Anakin. "You need to stay in school and stay on top of your studies."

"But!"

"No buts. I know that you and I will always talk about a decision and agree on something. But you know that your schoolwork is very important. Don't go slacking off on it. Keep up with the exercises I've already shown you, especially mediation before bed and once you wake up."

"I want to _help_!" Anakin insisted.

"I never said you couldn't," Obi-Wan ran a hand through Anakin's hair. "I just said that you can't slack off in your studies." He Looked to his Padawan. "And _inform_ me before you go off and do anything drastic."

Anakin gave his most innocent look.

Obi-Wan sighed.

"My primary concern is that Anakin is taken care of," he said turning back to Shamde. "I just don't know how right now."

The social worker brushed it all aside. "I'll stay with Anakin tonight at your place," she said brusquely. "Now, since you've asked for help, I wonder if this means that you'll call on our Queen, seeing as how you _do_ know her."

Obi-Wan shook his head. "Queen Amidala is busy in helping to rebuild Naboo and fix all the wrongs that the Trade Federation has done. My problems should not distract her as she has very important work to be doing."

Shamde frowned severely, and Obi-Wan knew she didn't like that answer, but she was a professional and said nothing about it. "And if I start suggesting other programs that you and young Anakin _more_ than qualify for?"

Obi-Wan bowed his head. "Yes," he said quietly. "I'll take any help I can get. I have had to learn, once again, that pride will lead to more hardships."

To this, at least, Shamde gave a soft smile. "Once Anakin is in school tomorrow, I'll drop by again with more filework and we'll start looking at specifics."

* * *

Anakin glared at his datapad. It had been _two_ days since Obi-Wan had been arrested. Bail had been nothing but a joke, given that they had _no credits_ and as nice and friendly as Shamde was, she _wasn't_ Obi-Wan. She had stayed over for two nights now, going over everything she'd gone over with Obi-Wan so that Anakin knew where they stood on everything (something he appreciated) but there were just little things she didn't seem to get. She would remind him of his meditation at night, but once she said that, she pulled out a book to read so that she wouldn't disturb him. She would wake him up at sunrise and tell him to meditate, then start organizing files and datachips for what she would be doing over the course of the day. She wasn't _trying_ to be a distraction, but she just _wasn't_ Obi-Wan! Obi-Wan who sat with him, gently nudged him both in the bond and in the reality, whose gentle presence was like an anchor for Anakin when he got confused, something he glanced to, get an idea of what he was supposed to be doing, and start doing it.

This didn't even get _into_ the nightmares. Shamde tried to console him when he woke up sweating and screaming, but she was a professional and she wasn't _family_. She wasn't Obi-Wan, who just let him hold on in the middle of the night, she wasn't Obi-Wan who would do something as small as running his hand through his hair that settled his swirling emotions in seconds. She was nice and caring but she _wasn't_ Obi-Wan.

They'd filled out all sorts of forms and filework for various agencies that Naboo had for those who were struggling to get by, to ensure that they weren't evicted and could still put food on the table. Augara had stopped by frequently, both to check Anakin and with Obi-Wan, to say how things were (not) going at the worksite. Several more people had been fired, and all had followed Obi-Wan's peaceable example. So far. Augara thought that some were getting angry enough to do something that Obi-Wan labeled as "stupid" and Anakin labeled as "fair". Obi-Wan kept telling Augara what should be done at each moment with each possible scenario, quoting the Coruscant Strikes extensively.

Anakin, himself, was frantically researching anything and everything he could think of. But he just didn't know enough. He didn't understand Naboo law, the strikes on Coruscant were hundreds of years ago and Anakin couldn't see how the methods of back then could do anything about what Obi-Wan was doing now.

Obi-Wan had explained that he was using diplomacy to mediate a situation, that it was something that Jedi often did.

When Anakin had demanded if that meant that Jedi ended up in jail all the time, Obi-Wan had chuckled and said no. Jedi were neutral. He couldn't be in this situation because he was most definitely on one side.

Anakin thought about going to his diplomacy teacher for help, but dismissed that immediately. This was a problem with Anakin and his brother. They could handle it themselves. Obi-Wan was already handling things, even while sitting in a jail cell. So Anakin would work his hardest to do his part as well.

Anakin angrily closed the window on his datapad about the Coruscant Strikes. This wasn't _helping_. He needed to do something other than just research! Anything! Trying to reach for the Force didn't help at all! (Probably because he was so angry... But he had _every_ right to be!)

Kohse peaked over his shoulder. "Whatcha mad about?" she whispered.

Anakin took a deep breath, trying to breath out his anger so that he wouldn't take it out on her. She was a marvelous help in Diplomacy, but she was younger than him and it often showed.

"I'm trying to learn about unionizing and collective bargaining and what to do when someone is unfairly put in jail," he whispered back, glancing at the diplomacy teacher who was crouched by another student.

Kohse nodded and sat back.

Anakin sighed. He had promised Obi-Wan he wouldn't slack on his schoolwork, and Shamde always looked over his work once she came over. _Stang_, he was tired. All this extra research was wearing him down and two nights of poor sleep wasn't helping.

A message popped up on his datapad as he poked at the essay he had been writing.

"_here, lookie at this! :D_" the message proudly proclaimed, with a small article.

Anakin threw back a smile at Kohse for her attempt to help and briefly scanned the article.

He stopped.

He _read_ the article.

Again.

Oh this was _brilliant_! He turned around. "Kohse, what made you think of this?"

She shrugged, giving a large grin that showed off her missing baby teeth. "My mommy's a reporter," she whispered back. "An' a lotta diplomacy's done with media stuff."

Anakin gave a huge smile as well. "Can I come visit her?"

Kohse nodded enthusiastically.

* * *

That night, there was a big splash all over Theed, about how Obi-Wan Kenobi, the hero who had saved a person buried in rubble after the Invasion, was now in jail for simply asking fair wages and health benefits through mediation.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** And this is the last of the inspiration we had for the fic. The rest of the author's notes will no doubt be filled with lots of whining and complaining about how there were no ideas and how hard it was to write and how long it took. We'll try to keep the self-pity to a minimum.

Jedi Obi-Wan starts to peak through again, though not (yet) with the results he wanted. Whether he realizes it or not, he's doing _just fine_. He just needs to believe it. Maybe someone should help him with that...

Anakin gets to shine, too. He's nothing if not creative. :) Some of his problems are showing, however, in that he only trusts Obi-Wan with certain things when he should let go and take the help from others, just as Obi-Wan is doing. Pride goeth before the fall, and all that.

At last, Obi-Wan asks for help. It's hard for people, particularly those who have been self-sufficient for such a long time, to actually ask for help. There are people out there who just think they can handle it on their own, even when all the signs are there that one misstep will ruin everything. Obi-Wan should have asked for help much earlier, especially where Shamde has made many suggestions. Obi-Wan at least admits he needs help. (Granted, it took something drastic...) Some don't even do that and keep getting in worse and worse situations thinking they can handle it all. That's just sad.

And for those of you thinking Obi-Wan should be in something other than construction, well, he was desperate and took the first offering he had. Also, the Living Force put him in construction so that this could happen. ^_^ People are going to be better off with Obi-Wan in construction.

Not that he'll always be in construction. Opportunity is going to bat him on the head, but for now, even sitting in a jail cell, he's right where he's supposed to be. Mwahahaha.

**Next Chapter:** A protest.


	11. Chapter 11

**Part Eleven**

Dressed as a handmaiden, Padme followed Captain Panaka's sister-in-law Mayuntha, as she escorted her through the detention center. The young queen kept a cool, neutral face as her eyes swept over the center; she had never been in one before, and she made a mental list of questions to ask her chief of security when next she saw him. After he chewed her out for sneaking off, of course.

Once at her destination, she wasted no time. "Master Kenobi," she said in soft but formal tones.

"...'Master'?" Mayuntha asked, but Padme continued.

"The queen wishes to convey a message to you."

He looked different. The last time she saw him was the day after he had gotten a job - scaring little Ani severely and explaining the horrid fact that refugees were being locked in their camps. Then, he was in Jedi robes, Padawan haircut, and missing a braid. Now, he still wore his Jedi cloak, but it was significantly more worn, strained, frayed at the edges and elbows. His Jedi clothes had been replaced with black trousers and practical spacer boots, a loose fitting off-white shirt that was as worn as his cloak. There was a thinness about him, his loose fitting clothes and in his face. His eyes were baggy - he had not been sleeping for days, perhaps even weeks, and there was a weight on his shoulders. The thin braid was still gone as was the tail, and his hair was in the process of growing out, at that awkward in-between stage where it was too short to style but too long to cut into anything resembling neat.

He had not come up in the world; he had gone down. Way, way down.

But in spite of all of that, when he opened his eyes at her words and looked at her from his cross-legged position on the floor, Padme could still see the power, the determination, the... look of the Jedi. He may have gone down in the world, but his character had not.

"Milady," he said in equally formal tones. "Does Captain Panaka know you are here?"

Padme merely smiled.

He groaned. "You are as bad as Anakin," he said slowly, rubbing his forehead. "All right. By all means, convey your queen's message."

Padme glanced at Mayuntha and the security guard disengaged the force-field, letting the handmaiden slip in and turning it back on. She gave one last puzzled glance before shaking her head and disappearing back down the corridor, still muttering "...'master'?"

Obi-Wan said, "I seem to be something of an anomaly here."

Padme slowly sat on the floor in front of him, even though there was a bed and a chair to sit. She didn't want to be above him even metaphorically. "An anomaly indeed. A Jedi living on Naboo, raising a child, working as a construction worker, starting protests and then getting arrested? I wonder if there is a word better than anomaly."

The former Jedi gave a soft smile. "So Augara _was_ able to contact the unions. Information here is rather slow in filtering in, and your spy Shamde has been understandably busy."

Padme flushed; partly surprised she had been caught so quickly. "She's not a spy."

"But I am most certainly a pet project, and all projects need to be checked in on, and that is Shamde's role."

"I told you I would help in any way that I could."

"And I have grown to the point where I can ask for help, but I will not ask for charity." Obi-Wan's eyes hardened slightly and his voice became more authoritative. "I would not advice the queen's involvement in this, Milady. She is a public figure and any move she makes will affect her image. I already know the outcome of this, there is no need for her interference."

Padme's eyes also hardened, and her tone became much more imperial. "And what, pray tell, do you expect to be the outcome of this? How could you possibly know what is going to happen?"

Obi-Wan gave no inch. "Experience," he said. "With the unions and collective bargaining agencies contacted they will swarm my former foreman and his company with cries of renegotiation. People who belong and are firm participants in such organizations are often quick to help others who are suffering a lack of a being's rights. From there one of two things will happen. If the company is honest they will fire the foreman and replace him with one of stronger character. If so, it is a quick and simple resolution. However, if the company is as corrupt as the foreman himself, the heads will send a high priced litigator or swindler to spin circles around the unions and retain their profits. That is the long and complex resolution. If it comes to that, public media will pick up on the story and it will turn into a brushfire from there. Hopefully I will be out of here by then, and when I work my way to the negotiation table things will go exactly as I want them to. Either way, the workers will gain fair wages, support, and other basic necessities."

"And in the meantime," Padme said, her voice slightly scornful, "You will sit here in this detention center?"

"I have been in far worse detention centers, Milady," Obi-Wan said in an equally hard voice. "This is a vacation."

"And Ani?"

"He is my Padawan, he knows how to take care of himself."

"He is a boy who's missing his brother."

An eye twitched, and at last Padme found an opening. She wasted no time pressing it: "He is a child who has been ripped from the only world he's ever known to be rejected by the people who did it, and now you're sitting here in jail with no thought to his emotional well being?"

" 'There is no emotion, there is peace.' "

Padme scoffed. "Tell that to the child who splashed your story all over the media to try and get someone to release you. Why do you think I'm here?"

Obi-Wan's eyes widened, and his Jedi exterior suddenly disappeared like a wisp of smoke. The unnaturally straight back hunched forward and a hand lifted to rub his face - a hand that was shaking, Padme realized belatedly. This wasn't a Jedi sitting in front of her; it was an overwhelmed man. The queen quickly found herself rethinking her initial impressions of why Obi-Wan had done what he had. Perhaps he had run out of rope, had no more options.

"What will I do with that boy?" he muttered to himself. He looked up through the curtain of his fingers and asked, "Did he at least keep my name out of it?"

Padme pursed her lips together, and Obi-Wan went back to hiding behind his hand.

"He loves you very much, you know," Padme said, her voice much softer now.

"No," Obi-Wan corrected, "He wants my presence. He's attached to me, he thinks of me as an object of his and he doesn't want to let go. He is viciously protective over what he thinks is his. That is not love."

"Isn't it?" Padme asked. "Would Master Qui-Gon have been any less protective over you?"

The other hand came up and hid his face completely, and Padme knew she had pushed too far. "I'm sorry," she said gently, reaching out and putting a hand on Obi-Wan's knee. "I know the Jedi see things very differently than others. I can only imagine. But..." She hesitated. She had not expected to be having this kind of conversation with Obi-Wan, only beat him over the head for his stupidity. Only now was she coming to realize that even after eight, almost nine months after the fact he was still grieving over the loss of his master, Qui-Gon Jinn. He was as lost as he was the night of the victory, when an excited Anakin had leapt into his devastating report of the dark creature. She did not want him to run away as he had that night, but she could not let him run himself so ragged, either.

"Obi-Wan," she tried again, determined for this to be said, "You are no longer a Jedi. No matter how hard you try, the home you make for Ani won't be the Temple. It won't be its environment or culture or structure. You can mimic it as closely as you wish, but it will never be the Temple. Wouldn't it be better, then, to not hold Ani to the Temple's _every_ code of conduct? To be more understanding that there will be things he simply _can't_ learn because he's not at the Temple?"

The former Jedi lifted himself up from his hands, back once more unnaturally straight, his eyes powerful and determined. "You have no idea what you are asking," he said quietly.

Padme knew she had lost him. Regretfully, she sighed and slowly stood up. "I will inform the Queen not to involve herself with the dispute. However, a reward for a job well done, if things go as you say, would not be remiss... Should the situation call for it." She turned away and looked to the force-field. Mayuntha, likely watching from the security cameras, quickly arrived let her out.

A thought occurred to her. "Master Kenobi," she said, turning quickly. " 'May the Force be with you.' You taught that to a child once, and asked him why the saying was redundant for a Jedi." Mayuntha's eyes doubled in size as she stared at her captive. "In honor of your current position, I will instead say: 'the Force will be with you.' "

Obi-Wan blinked, but said nothing, once more closing his eyes for meditation. Padme hope she gave him some food for thought. As Mayuntha escorted her out, the dark skinned security guard asked, "Milady, does that mean that man's a Jedi?"

Padme knew it was probably spiteful, but she wanted the galaxy to know just what a good man this was. "That is Jedi Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi," she said, "Padawan learner of Master Qui-Gon Jinn. He was instrumental in keeping the queen safe on her escape to Corscant and fought with his master to free Naboo from the Viceroy's occupation."

"... Then what in the _galaxy_ is he doing in there?" she demanded.

"He is once more fighting for what it right."

* * *

"I'm all set."

"Really?"

"Yes, really. All the filework had been done."

"You're sure."

"Yes."

"Absolutely?"

"Of course."

"Ooof!"

Obi-Wan grunted as Anakin, finally deeming that he was well and truly out of jail, jumped up, wrapped his arms around Obi-Wan's neck and legs around Obi-Wan's waist and held on tight. Apparently Anakin had missed him. A lot.

Not that Obi-Wan could completely blame him. He'd missed this boy as well. But this was a sign of attachment and Obi-Wan didn't particularly want to think about at the moment. Padme had been correct. Anakin had had enough upheaval in his life. Trying to address this now would likely be more prudent. It would nip it in the bud. But it would hurt Anakin and Obi-Wan had seen this child hurt enough. He didn't particularly want to do so again, and this time intentionally. He'd discuss it with Anakin once things were settled.

It had been a week, Obi-Wan reflected. One full and solid week in jail. Obi-Wan's opinion of the penitentiary system here on Naboo was that it was one of the finest he'd ever been held in. It had been a long week with many visits from Anakin, Shamde, and Augara. Anakin more or less lived in his cell with him after school, going over the Force, what it could do, meditation, even a few variations of forms that he could do with his healing shoulder and wrist. Shamde was there with all sorts of filework to be done to get him on welfare and ensure that he didn't lose their tiny apartment due to his illegal termination. And Augara seemed to have appointed himself as go-between for Obi-Wan and the full-scale protest that seemed to be going on at the jobsite.

Indeed, things were moving along faster than Obi-Wan had anticipated in that front. Once the various construction unions had caught wind of Obi-Wan's coworkers - displaced by the invasion and desperate to get work, no matter what it was - being hired without even knowledge that construction unions _existed_, they'd quickly gone about surveying every construction site in Theed, checking to ensure that all workers were part of the various trade unions and debriefing them on what their rights were.

To say that there were some disparities between what various laborers were _supposed_ to be paid and have available and what was actually doled out was something of an understatement. Protests and strikes were spreading throughout the city. And, at Obi-Wan's _constant_ insistence through Augara, it was kept peaceful. Naboo Security Officers went to every protest and strike, but since Naboo allowed for collective bargaining, all they did was ensure peacefulness.

It was rather refreshing for Obi-Wan to see things _not_ explode into violence.

Anakin's jump on the media had helped move things along, though Obi-Wan _really_ didn't care to be the focus, he couldn't deny that the collection that went around almost every trade union had been what he needed to make bail.

And now he was free.

Without his express permission, his arms seemed to have a mind of their own as they squeezed Anakin close.

"Shouldn't you be in school?" Obi-Wan asked as he walked down the street.

"I told my teachers that I wouldn't be in today because you were being released. They were all understanding." Anakin smiled. "My diplomacy teacher gave me extra credit for 'practical application of media usage'."

Obi-Wan couldn't stop the sigh.

"We'll worry about the ramifications of your 'practical application of media usage' tomorrow. Today, I'd like to spend the day with you at home and work on meditation. I understand you still have nightmares, and meditation will help."

Anakin frowned, but then shrugged and hugged him again, squeezing tightly.

"It _will_ help, Anakin. I was thinking about this during the week. I think we'll start with a particular sutra that Qui-Gon taught me when-"

"Obi! Ani!"

Obi-Wan paused, turning. Augara was rushing from a side street they were passing. Running up, the brown Gungan waved his arms frantically. "Wesa needin' yousa _now_! Yosa comin'!" He reached out to grab Obi-Wan's arm and start pulling, but Obi-Wan was far better at evading.

"Augara? What in the world is going on?"

"Yousa free now, yesa? So wesa goin'!"

Obi-Wan evaded another grab. He put on his firm face and voice and addressed his friend and coworker again. "Augara. I was just let out of jail. I would like to spend the day with Anakin. Certainly, I can be there tomorrow to deal with whatever the problem is."

"Nosa!" Augara said quickly. Finally, the Gungan took a calming breath. "Looky, theresa some _mui nutsen Hisen_ at the strikin'. Wesa been keepin' calm and coolin', but the _nutsen_ keep heatin' and hollerin'. Theysa almost fightin'! Theysa no listenin' to anyone! Wesa needin' yousa to makin' themsa with the sleepin'!"

Obi-Wan sighed. Deeply. They had all been working diligently towards settling this peacefully, but if any hotheads started a fight and got arrested, high-priced litigators would swoop in and cut away the progress they'd made.

Right.

While he wouldn't put them to sleep, he _did_ need to talk to any dissenters who could become violent and ensure their cooperation or ensure that they left.

"_Negotiation has always been a strong point of yours, Padawan mine._"

That didn't change the fact that Anakin remained his only priority. Stars, Obi-Wan hadn't even had a chance to get home to change clothes...

He looked to his Padawan. "I suppose this counts as more instruction for you in 'practical application'. Though this time _I'll_ be the one applying the application. You watch and learn." Obi-Wan smiled. "I'll be most interested to see what comparisons you can draw from what I'm doing with what you've been learning in your diplomacy classes."

Anakin was frowning. "But I have lunch all ready and I saved from some of my cash-for-chores work and got you a new shirt. And I had it all planned out!"

Obi-Wan set Anakin down and knelt in front of him. "I had something similar happen with my Master. He'd gone on a mission I wasn't old enough to handle yet, and I had everything laid out for when he returned. Yet no sooner had he landed then the High Council called us to be sent to another mission. I understand how you feel. But those things are just materials. _I_ am still here and I'm not being whisked off somewhere else."

Anakin stood there, thinking about it, but not a moment later, he offered a bright smile and nodded. Obi-Wan nodded as well and stood. Anakin snaked his hand into Obi-Wan's and together, they followed Augara.

It didn't remove all of Anakin's issues with attachments, but it might help with some of Anakin's attachments to items. The attachment to Obi-Wan himself, would have to come later.

* * *

Anakin noted that his brother looked rather impressed when he saw just how _many_ people were at the jobsite. Over the past week, the buildsite that Obi-Wan and his coworkers had been working at had become the center of a flood of people from all over the city. The only time Anakin had ever seen so many people in one place before here on Naboo was at the parade celebration and funeral right after they'd won against the Trade Federation. Protesters were peacefully marching, singing, holding up signs, chanting, and organizing. Workers from almost every trade union had gathered as well, and Anakin saw many of Obi-Wan's coworkers holding signs and chanting as well for the strike they were on now that they _were_ part of the unions.

"This is..." Obi-Wan murmured, taking a moment to just stand and stare.

"All 'cause of yousa," Augara said proudly with a smile.

Obi-Wan dipped his head and shrugged. "Well, it's sooner than I anticipated, but we can work with this." He turned to the Gungan. "Now, were are these hotheads you've mentioned?"

Augara started leading them through the throngs of people, many of whom recognized Obi-Wan (thanks to Anakin's appeal to the media!) and were slapping him on the back, shaking his hand, and exclaiming that it was about time he'd been let out of jail. Anakin couldn't help but smile. After all, _he_ was the one responsible for this, and even though his time with Obi-Wan had been cut off to come here, Anakin was kinda glad that he could show off what he'd been able to accomplish.

"Anakin," Obi-Wan mumbled so softly Anakin was amazed that he heard it at all. "Isn't that..."

"Yup. Kohse's mom. She's the reporter I talked to. She was real upset that you were in jail for just wanting to get better pay."

"And that's..."

"Yup. My diplomacy class. My teacher thought this would be a good field trip."

Obi-Wan sighed. Anakin smiled.

"Disa way," Augara said, pulling them to a set of awnings that had come up over where many of the union leaders were organizing their protests and strikes.

Many introductions were made and Anakin watched Obi-Wan study each face and listen carefully to each name, no doubt committing everything to memory. Anakin tried to as well, but was soon lost as the sea of faces who came up to greet his brother just got more and more vast.

"The Force, Anakin. Open up to it and it will help your focus," Obi-Wan once again whispered so quietly Anakin wondered how in the _galaxy_ he could hear that.

"Because you're having an easier time reaching for the Force. It's staring to come subconsciously on certain things. Like your senses."

Well that was just _wizard_!

"Focus, Padawan."

"You bet!"

"Obi-Wan Kenobi, the hero approacheth!" an olive-skinned Human greeted, vigorously shaking Obi-Wan's hand. "Name's Narmle, head of the Naboo Duracrete Union. It's good ta see ya outta the pen."

"It's good to _be_ out," Obi-Wan replied. "This is my... little brother, Anakin Skywalker."

Narmle nodded to Anakin and was about to say something when another Human, this one very pale, stepped up. "Hey. I'm Oerba and I run the Chommell Wiring Association."

"Chommell?" Obi-Wan blinked. "I wasn't aware our local plight was getting so much attention."

"Oh your little story is quite wide spread in the sector. We've been watching Naboo piece itself back together. Most of our esteemed leaders were too scared to go against the Trade Feds, but an average guy trying to get by? We can get behind that."

"No kidding," Narmle nodded. "We got folks coming in from all over Naboo and some from Karlinus, Ryndellia, the Chommell minor, all here to oppose the kriffin' morons who thought they could break Naboo law and not let you unionize."

"Oh my," Obi-Wan blinked.

Anakin grinned. His brother had _resources_ now. And _support_ which the Jedi hadn't given. His brother would always have him by his side, but now he had others as well. Anakin couldn't have dreamed things would go so well.

They all sat down at a folding table to start discussing what had been going on. Anakin watched intently as Narmle and Oerba both took the lead in explaining what had been going on. The protests had started the day the news had been learned, courtesy of Kohse's mother. The following day, union representatives were making their runs around every construction site in Theed to ensure that everyone was either unionized, or getting a fair contract if someone had opted not to join the union. Once the tally had been made, many started to come and mediate on Obi-Wan'd behalf with his foreman to no success. While the unions had been organizing, Augara had lead many of their coworkers to a strike since they were all getting nowhere with said foreman. At least the man had been smart enough to not fire them all like he had with Obi-Wan.

However, the foreman was no fool. He was easily overwhelmed as more and more people started to show up and had quickly called his bosses who had sent backup, hired muscle, and an extremely high-priced litigator.

The company had also decided that it was cheaper to just bring in fresh labor from out of the sector, rather than bargain with the unions.

"It's the strike breakers who are the issue," Narmle said. "The idiots just keep going on working for squat under a tyrant."

Oerba shook his head. "Regardless, now that you're here, Kenobi, we can do some morale uplifting. Have you walk through the crowds, maybe talk to the press about-"

Obi-Wan stood abruptly. Anakin looked up surprised.

"I thank you for all the effort that you've put into this and what you have done is amazing. But I will not be used as such."

"Used?" Anakin echoed.

Obi-Wan looked to him and smiled. "Yes, Anakin, used. Though it would be with the best of intentions, I am just an object that they can use to garner favor and sympathy. While I do agree with public appeals when necessary, in this circumstance, I have far better ideas on what needs to be done."

"Now hold on," Oerba said, smiling awkwardly. "It'd be helping you get the fair wages and medical compensation you asked for at the start of all this."

Obi-Wan shrugged. "It would. Eventually. What I have in mind will be far more expedient. I thank you for the information, gentlemen, but I have other people to see."

He walked briskly away, Anakin racing at his heals, glancing back at the confused union leaders.

"But Obi-Wan, don't you need them? Aren't they trying to help?"

"Indeed they are. But unions, understandably, tend to be rather biased. Just as biased as the corporations they mediate with. It very much becomes an us-or-them mentality as both sides work to get exactly what they want. It's a long and tedious process."

"But if you compromise with the foreman or who he works for, aren't you giving up what you wanted in the first place?"

"Not at all," Obi-Wan said with a smile. "I have a vested interest in this, that is true. I want my job back so that we aren't out on the streets. And I want to be able to save. If for no other reason than we need to make a trip at some point to have you make a lightsaber."

Anakin blinked. "Just how far ahead are you _looking_? That won't happen for, what, years?"

"If we get the pay I'm planning for, about five years of saving."

"...wizard..."

"Indeed." Obi-Wan threw him a smile. "Assuming you don't end up in another fight requiring medcenter bills."

"I get it, I get it!"

They continued to weave through the crowds milling around. "Obi-Wan, how d'you know where to go?"

"The Force."

"It's pulling you?"

"No, the Force is rarely so obvious. I am merely an open being, letting the feel of all these people flow over me. There is a group that is a great deal angrier than anyone else here. I daresay almost _violently_ angry. That is where I'm going."

Anakin grabbed Obi-Wan's hand and yanked, making him stop. "And you're going straight towards people who will be _violent_? What if they get violent towards you?" He'd already been without Obi-Wan for a week. He couldn't _stand_ if it was permanent.

Obi-Wan knelt down and smiled gently. "Anakin, take a moment to think. The people who are angry, they are average beings, just like you were before we started your training. Do you really think that an average person could actually hurt me?"

Anakin scowled. "That doesn't matter! You're still putting yourself in danger!"

"I am not. Because it will not get violent."

"But you just said-"

Obi-Wan reached out and ruffled his hair. "Your concern for me and your caring does you much credit, Anakin. Your open heart gives you great empathy for your fellow beings. But just because you know a situation can possibly go bad doesn't mean you avoid it. You don't miss a race just because you know Sebulba was going to cheat and injure other racers. You go ahead and do it anyway. A Jedi does this because a Jedi will always do what a Jedi must. Because a Jedi can do things no one else can and if we don't, then who will? These people are angry and upset. A spark will set them off, but I'm not going there to light a fuse. I'm there to _de_fuse."

Anakin was still worried. "But what if..."

"Focus on the here and now, as Qui-Gon would say. But I am adept at the Unifying Force and I sense no danger to myself or you or anyone else for today. As long as I ensure it by defusing these 'hotheads'."

Anakin was sure his head was aching. "This here and now and future stuff is all so confusing..."

Obi-Wan chuckled. "With time and training, Anakin. This will not happen overnight."

Anakin nodded and followed along as they headed toward whatever it was Obi-Wan was seeing. They arrived at another set of awnings, these where the Naboo Security Guard were keep a close eye on a group of easily fifty people who were all shouting angrily and holding various things threateningly. Anakin looked around nervously before following Obi-Wan right into the center of the throng and sitting down peacefully, waiting.

"Obi-Wan?"

"Patience, my dear Padawan. Watch and learn."

They sat there quietly for a while as people shouted epitaphs and curses (Anakin took note of the ones he hadn't heard before...) and acting much more aggressive than all the other protesters and strikers that they had seen previously. It was almost a half hour before someone sat down in front of them.

"Mr. Kenobi? Is that you?"

Anakin's brother opened his eyes and smiled. "Hello there. Yes, I am Obi-Wan Kenobi. I must say, things have certainly been progressing while I was away."

The woman blinked. "I'll say," she said gruffly. "And when protesting started we," she gestured to the angered people around her, "were soon separated out so that we wouldn't be a 'bad influence' on all the others who kept showing up."

"Really?"

"We're _angry_!" she shouted. "And we have every damn _right_ to be angry! Who _wouldn't_ be after everything that's happened. And even though we're going after what's right, those damnable strike breakers keep going in! And the cheap labor they brought from off planet! Oh, if I could get my _hands_ on one of them!"

Thus started a long litany of grievances that other angry protesters were soon sitting with them to expound upon. Anakin watched, amazed, as the people who had been so aggressive and threatening sat around Obi-Wan, taking turns to air out their grievances in a heated fashion. Obi-Wan listened to each one of them, asking clarifying questions, offering sympathies and anecdotes, and just giving a reassuring smile.

The woman who had first started explaining things eventually broke down and cried, since her husband had died as a result of an injury incurred on the jobsite. Everyone was still angry, and after what Anakin had heard, he was angry to, but they weren't aggressive or threatening. They were just united in fury.

Obi-Wan spoke with each of them, quietly and calmly, until everyone was just as calm as he was.

_Wizard_.

"We all have a right to be angry," Obi-Wan said, and Anakin felt something in the Force, kinda like projecting, since he assumed that Obi-Wan wanted everyone to hear him. "What the foreman did to me was deplorable and it has become a rallying point for many, many people who have come to suffer the injustices that happen after violent conflict. Invariably, no matter where in the galaxy you go, someone will take advantage of a bad situation."

"And we're going to _do_ something about it," a man said heatedly.

"Indeed. And we already are. The company cannot stand bad press and will have to sit down with us for mediation. For now, in order to make themselves look good, they bring in other workers to show that they are committed to the job and will get it done. They believe it to be good press."

"But it's _not_!" someone farther away shouted.

"Of course it isn't. It's a public show of what they want. But as long as both sides keeps peaceable, the media can't paint either side as a villain. This company will avoid a bad light with anything they can. Which means they won't stiff us once we're all seated at the table."

"And the strikebreakers?" the woman demanded. "They're all cowards."

Obi-Wan gave a small sigh. "No. They are fraught with indecision, so they make no decision. They know they are not being treated fairly. But with no resources and strikes equating to no wages, they dare not stop working. To do so would likely mean that families would go hungry, so they chose to put their children first and not get involved."

"But it won't do no good in the long run!" a man yelled.

"No, and they know that. But with the way things are now, by going in to work, they know what to expect. That provides stability. Our lack of pay and care gives us instability, so we protest for something better. They can only go with what they know."

Obi-Wan leaned back. "We have a right to how we feel. We've been treated poorly and are understandably upset by it. But just because we are does not mean we should deny the strikebreakers the right to feel trapped and do only what they know. It does not mean that we should deny the company a chance to try and put themselves in a good light, because it ensures that when we sit at the mediation table, we _will_ get what we want."

Anakin was impressed. Obi-Wan had started out sounding like he was completely on their side, calmed them down, and was now successfully convincing them that there shouldn't be any violence without stating anything outright.

Was this how diplomacy worked? He'd have to pay more attention in class...

Once things were all calm, Obi-Wan pointed out that the security guard were no longer keeping an eye on them so stringently and were looking much more relaxed. "How interesting. Once we are calm, they are calm." Anakin couldn't quite bite back the chuckle.

"Do you see now, Anakin, why it is that reacting in anger makes things worse, but working calmly resolves things to everyone's benefit?"

Anakin looked down, remember his argument and fight with Horace that had, in a way, _led_ to all of this. "Yeah."

"I do not say this to belittle you. Merely to show you that your tendency to anger will harm you in the long run. You will likely have a right to get angry. It's what you do with that anger. Holding onto it, releasing it through shouting or violence, it does no good. Things will remain the same or get worse."

"Yeah," Anakin mumbled. "I can see that now."

"Excellent."

"Excellent indeed," said a different voice and both Obi-Wan and Anakin turned to see Oerba looking thoughtfully at them. "Mr. Kenobi, would like to join us and observe when we get to the negotiation table?"

"I think that's a good idea," Obi-Wan replied, smiling softly. Anakin got the distinct impression that that was what Obi-Wan had wanted all along.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** A reader brought up a very good point in a review last chapter that we thought we'd address. Some of you may have been wondering why the average Nabooan isn't recognizing Obi-Wan as Sith Slayer. That actually takes some explanation that basically boils down to the fact that the average person DOESN'T know the Sith are back. Remember, Qui-Gon/Obi-Wan/Anakin first encountered was when they were leaving Tatooine in a hurry. Qui-Gon has suspicions, but we never heard him voice them until he spoke to the Council.

However the Jedi were skeptical (rightly so, Sith hadn't been around for a VERY long time...) and Obi-Wan's opinion on if Maul was a Sith or not was never revealed. Then it was them rushing off to Naboo where Padme was more concerned about finding and uniting with Gungans. Plus Sith have always been a Jedi concern so it seems doubtful that Padme would have been told that "Oh yeah, the random chance we see that guy who fought Qui-Gon on Tatooine was really a Sith, just so you know."

Of course then Padme, Panaka and various Royal Guards see Maul, but all they know is that Qui/Obi went off to deal with them. Cut to the beginning of the fic when Anakin interrupts Obi-Wan giving his report to Padme and we don't really know if Padme knows about the Sit or not. Remember the Sith are a Jedi thing. It's open to debate on whether or not Obi-Wan even mentione it, if he even got that far.

So no, the average Nabooan doesn't know about Obi-Wan killing a Sith. They just know that Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jin died saving their people.

Poor Padme. Every time she shows up she just pushes Obi-Wan a little too far. She means well, though, and all of her constant reminders to pay off. Eventually. She had every intention of batting Obi-Wan on the head for stupidity. She's just too compassionate. ^_^

Obi-Wan, outside of the Jedi, is, in some ways, dealing with Anakin's attachment more easily. This lesson firmly sets it in Anakin's mind that attachment to things doesn't matter. They're just things. Too bad it'll make Ani even more attached to Obi. ^_^ Obi-Wan is, of course, aware of this, but either puts off the discussion or is interrupted. Obi-Wan's assessment that Ani sees him as an object is at least partly correct. Ani is latched to Obi so strongly that if anything bad happens to Obi (and catastrophically so) Ani will go over the edge. This is bad attachment. Obi-Wan will take care of it... eventually. These things won't happen over night. Or in the span of this fic. Being away from the Jedi will help. Anakin will eventually start seeing various types of "love", including the selfish kind and the results of that. But that's way off outside of this fic.

This arc was finished (finally) just days before the Wisconsin Strikes in February 2011. If you don't live in America or were asleep when this happened, Wisconsin's governor tried to pass a bill that forbade unions from asking for fair pay (basically), freezing salaries if contracts were in conflict (and they would be often since each contract would only be a year) and a lot of really bad things. This in Wisconsin, which had some of the most violent union protests back in the 1930s. Well, every union and collective bargaining organization in the known universe showed up to protest; teachers and firefighters and cops and constructions workers and, well, everyone. There were protests held in all fifty states. Fourteen democrat members of Wisconsin congress _left the state_ in an attempt to prevent the bill from passing. It was just huge.

Oh, and this little thing called the Arab Spring was going on, including Egypt getting overthrown (Mubarak saying he'd step down Feb 11). (We're still cheering the Arab Spring on! Get independence! Listen to your own people!) Oh, and this other little thing called Occupy Wall Street happened a few months in September.

And that was all _after_ we wrote this.

0.o

*ahem*

Anyone notice the nod to a quote Obi-Wan made to Luke? ^_^

And, at last, the lesson on No Anger is finally banged into Anakin's head. He'll still go to anger first for a reaction, but he'll understand that it won't do him any good. Not to say he won't backslide from time to time, but he's got a better understanding of it than he would at the Temple.

*phew* Enough author's notes.

**Next Chapter:** A sign. Of what we don't know.


	12. Chapter 12

**Part Twelve**

Anakin hated being at school.

No, that wasn't completely true. He loved the mechanics, shop, math and science classes. Diplomacy was boring but little Kohse helped him through most of it. He loved learning. What he hated was the fact that his brother Obi-Wan was off at the jobsite with a lot of union bigwigs doing _important_ things. _He_ was negotiating contracts for hundreds (thousands?) of workers. _He_ was being an _echuta hero_ while Anakin was just _going to school_.

He hated it!

It put him in such a sour mood he couldn't stand it. He had no patience for his classes and was quick to shout out all the answers in class because it was all so _obvious_, of _course_ the wiring was inverted on the diagram because it was being held upside-down and you could tell because the circuit regulator always faced toward the cockpit and fuel injectors were always farther way and it was standard practice that all diagrams put the cockpit at the top of the picture, _duh_! Several teachers tried to pull him aside and talk about his superior attitude but he just pouted and stared at the floor, refusing to comment. He must have gotten four detentions in the span of the last three days, and he kept skipping them because his first priority wasn't some stupid punishment but rather dashing home to see if Obi-Wan made it home or if the talks were going so poorly his brother stayed up all night in conference at the jobsite.

That had only happened once. But once was one too many.

His diplomacy and political classes he ignored outright, instead looking all of his focus on his datapad that he'd sliced into the HoloNet to watch the feed of the negotiations, trying to spy any glimpse or mention of Obi-Wan. Kohse's mom had interviewed him after his release from jail. _That_ had taken several _hours_ of whining and puppy-eyes and promises and even then it had almost failed until the mother politely promised that she would keep the interview politically neutral and give it minimal hype. If it hadn't been for Kohse's mother the interview would never have happened. None of the tricks that worked on his mother seemed to work on Obi-Wan and it left Anakin with the startling realization that just because he was free didn't mean he could always have things go his way.

It made him think about things. He had spent months, almost a year, bending over backwards to be accommodating to Obi-Wan - partly because it was necessary but also because he needed the good favors saved up so that he could call them in when he wanted something. It was how things had worked in the slave quarters. One did favors for friends so they would do favors in return; and with his mother he knew he could get most of what he wanted because his mom just couldn't say no to him like everyone else could, would, and did. Anakin had done everything he had so that he could make Obi-Wan into the brother Anakin _wanted_. It was very sobering to realize he may not have a say in the matter.

That didn't help his mood either.

He didn't understand why Obi-Wan was so desperate to avoid the attention. There wasn't an owner about to hit him, so there was no need to be invisible. Indeed, Obi-Wan was being a _hero_; he _deserved_ attention, because attention was love. His mother showered Anakin with attention, and he couldn't for the life of him understand why Obi-Wan so desperately shied away from such displays of love. _Naboo_ loved him for what he was doing, if only they knew it was _him_ that was doing it. The HoloNet talked all about Chommell union heads and the stupid fancy-schmancy litigator the bad companies had hired, but no one mentioned Obi-Wan and his role. Even Kohse's mother's interview didn't talk about the fact that he was on the negotiation table.

Anakin just didn't get it. What did Qui-Gon _do_ that made Obi-Wan so shy?

"_Duty is more important than adoration. And Obi-Wan finds it more rewarding._"

Startled, Anakin looked up from his datapad and around. Everyone was listening to the teacher, no one and nothing looked out of place. Had he imagined it? Anakin replayed his thoughts, thinking back.

It had _sounded_ like something Qui-Gon would say. Was it just a memory? Anakin couldn't recall any conversation where the decorated Jedi had said that, but then memory was a hazy thing at best. Still, why had he thought of it so suddenly?

* * *

Two classes later Anakin was ignoring the other students in the study hall and again pouring over the HoloNet. Kohse was trying to look over his shoulder, she found the feed really interesting - unlike Anakin she understood the arguments and byplays that were happening and she always got so excited when a concept or idea they learned in class came to play. Anakin didn't care one way or the other; he just wanted to see his brother. He wanted to _help_.

That was when the thought popped into his mind, and he quickly took down the name of the litigator, the firm he represented, and who else was on the negotiation team for the bad guys. Kohse frowned at him, but he was already starting to open up other windows. This would take a lot of digging; Anakin wasn't completely sure what he was looking for. Frowning, he remembered the first day Obi-Wan was free from jail and they were walking through the throngs of protesters at the jobsite. He had been open to the Force then in order to understand where he needed to go. Anakin didn't know exactly how to do that but he figured it shouldn't be too hard to figure out. If it were anything like when he used the Force after school that one time, the day he got in the fight with stupid Horace, it would be a snap.

He blinked, remembering the result of that experiment in the Force and the conversation with the engine shop teacher after the fact. He was in school, but it _was_ a study hall...

Getting up, he walked up to the study hall manager, a political science teacher for the older kids. "Sir?" he asked in his most polite voice.

"Yes?"

"Can I..." Anakin frowned, trying to think of how to word this. "My brother's teaching me stuff the same way you are. I know I'm in school but it's study hall, so is it okay if I work on something my brother's teaching me?"

"As long as it doesn't distract the other students, I don't have a problem with it."

Nodding, Anakin went back to his seat and leaned over to Kohse. "I'm gonna do a Force thing. Be quiet for a second, okay?"

"Okay," she whispered, adjusting her seat and shuffling her desk.

Anakin took a few deep breaths and reached, picturing the podraces and flying over Naboo airspace, reaching the feeling he had in mornings, practicing lightsaber forms without a lightsaber, the sense that Obi-Wan always seemed to carry within him wherever he went.

Satisfied, he opened his eyes and started his research, thinking about what he wanted to find: leverage against the litigators. His fingers started to fly across the datapad, stylus highlighting and copying and sorting. Information soaked into his head and he began to get a better understanding of what the bad guys were like.

The litigator was part of a firm that did lots of business around the galaxy. It seemed to do a little bit of everything, and it seemed to almost always win its cases. As Anakin, immersed in the Force, started looking up old cases he noted that the ones they lost seemed to always have a Jedi consultant or was a crisis that a Jedi was asked to intervene. That made him more curious and he looked up the clients the litigation company hired out to. The Force said _look, now,_ and as Anakin spied the names and the occupations, following up the food chain, he discovered something so startling he gasped, breaking his concentration as he stared at the datapad.

"That was really cool!" Kohse whispered excitedly. "You were moving through the windows so fast I couldn't see what you were reading!"

Anakin blinked, feeling a little disconnected, before his thoughts finally caught up with him.

"Kohse!" he said in normal speaking tones, garnering looks from other students in the study hall. "Do you have a communicator or do I have to use the school's?"

Kohse looked confused. "I have one but why-"

"Give it to me!"

"Mr. Skywalker, I'll have to ask you to be quiet, this is a study hall and-"

"Quick!" Anakin said, on pins and needles.

"Kohse, don't give it to him," the stupid political science teacher said. Anakin got angry.

"I have to contact Obi-Wan!" the ten-year-old declared. "He needs to know the people he's negotiating against work for the Trade Federation!"

* * *

The negotiations had taken a quick half hour break for lunch. It was several hours _past_ the standard lunchtime, everybody was hungry, but the litigators seemed determined to make the work as uncomfortable as possible for the collective bargaining team. Obi-Wan was a Jedi, these minor tactics weren't going to dissuade him, and Oerba and Narmle were bound and determined not to let these petty strategies work on them. If anything, it spurred them to push even further, dig in their heels. It was all well and good, but Obi-Wan knew that a stalemate would do nothing for them. Both sides had to give if they expected to get, and Obi-Wan was starting to feel like he was staring at two Anakin's facing off against each other. He had very dread predictions on how this was going to turn out if he didn't figure out a way to get the litigators to listen. The Chommell union heads were fierce but had been around the block before and had quickly seen Obi-Wan's experience as a boon to them, deferring to his suggestions when he made them. The lawyers, however...

Sighing, he turned on his borrowed communicator to see if Augara left any messages for him. Apparently he did, he saw a half dozen transmissions waiting to be received. Mentally groaning at what emergency had happened _now_ he ducked into an unoccupied recreation room, opening the cooling unit to see if there was bottled water before playing through the messages.

_"Obi-Wan! The bad guys! They work for the Trade Federation!"_

The world very nearly stopped. Obi-Wan blinked, his ears burning as he listened to all the messages, not left by Augara but rather Anakin as the boy left increasingly desperate and frustrated messages explaining what he had discovered. Any thoughts of lunch flew out the window as he glanced at the time. School had gotten out twenty minutes ago.

Obi-Wan took a deep breath, absorbing the garbled bits and pieces of Anakin's messages before he connected his comm. to a terminal in the room and dialed home. He needed more than audio for this call, and the terminal had a two-way view screen. Old man Jafan appeared on the terminal monitor and Obi-Wan asked to be switched to his apartment.

"Not until I get my rent! It's coming due, you know!"

"Please, Mister Jafan, I need to talk to Anakin."

"He ain't here. Now how are you going to pay me without no work? Welfare checks never come when they're supposed to!"

Honestly, it was one problem after the next. Obi-Wan rubbed his face and did what he could to placate the older man before hanging up as quickly as he could. Fighting off the coming headache, he called the school, trying to convince himself that Anakin was there for after school help, not because he had gotten into trouble. When his call was rerouted to the assistant principal, he knew that rationale was fruitless and he was forced to face facts.

Anakin had received _five_ detentions and had not served _any_ of them. Obi-Wan had known nothing of this, so absorbed was he in the negotiations. He had made the (obviously erroneous) assumption that Anakin could function on his own, and now he was paying the consequences for such a serious blunder. The boy was too attached to him, was desperate for any affirmation or attention he could get from Obi-Wan, and he constantly let his emotions run away from him.

This kind of behavior would never have been accepted in the Temple, and one very tiny corner of Obi-Wan's mind was glad the ten year old wasn't there; he would not survive the culture shock. While he tried to placate the assistant principal Obi-Wan tried to decide how he could best cure Anakin of this increasingly problematic issue of attachment.

... Perhaps he _was_ too old to be trained. Obi-Wan was beginning to see Master Yoda's point on that score, but the boy was so naturally gifted with the Force that leaving him alone was unthinkable. Still, the past couldn't be changed and Obi-Wan wasn't going to let it rule him. Qui-Gon's death did a more than adequate job on _that_ front.

The question was how to show Anakin why attachment was bad and how to break it...

_"No. Breaking attachment will only make him more desperate for it. Better instead to show him how to be attached selflessly."_

Obi-Wan stopped talking mid-sentence, his face going deathly white as he turned to look over his shoulder. Surely, _surely_ there was someone who just entered the room. But there was no one, and there could be no mistaking that voice anyway.

"... Master?"

_"Mr. Kenobi? Is there a problem?"_

"... No, nothing is wrong at the moment," he finally answered in a shaky voice, finally turning back to the communicator terminal. "I thought someone had just entered the room. Regardless, I will speak to Anakin very firmly and he will receive punishment to supplement the suspension he is receiving for his skipped detentions. If either you or I think of anything else, you have my number and I yours. Now, if it doesn't interfere with Anakin's detention, may I speak with him? To begin the lecturing of course?"

_"Of course. A moment please."_

Obi-Wan turned back to the empty room briefly. But there was nothing, and he pushed it all aside.

_"Obi-Wan!"_

"Anakin, I have at best fifteen minutes before negotiations reconvene for you to explain the half dozen messages you left on my communicator. You need to be brief and you need to be thorough."

The child's face pinched together in thought on the terminal screen, trying to reconcile the antagonistic combination of "brief" and "thorough." When he sucked in a large breath Obi-Wan quickly added, "and clear," before Anakin could bowl through everything as quickly as possible. Anakin pouted but started talking anyway.

_"I wanted to help you,"_ he said simply, _"so I thought I'd research the guys you're negotiating with. I used the Force like I do when I'm podracing or working on an engine, and when I was done I realized the bad guys are working for the Trade Federation."_

"What is your proof?"

_"The firm's board of directors has three members that I was able to confirm as members of the Trade Federation, and about seventy-three percent of all cases they handle can be traced up the chain to the Trade Federation."_

"How did you get this information?"

That caused a pause before Anakin frowned and said, _"... I don't know. I was really deep in the Force; it wasn't till I stopped that I put it all together. I have all the files I downloaded. Should I forward them to you?"_

"Yes."

_"Obi-Wan, they almost always win their cases because a witness disappears or suddenly changes their story. This is dangerous! I should be there to help you and-"_

The former Jedi made his face turn very hard, and he immediately cut in. "And what, pray tell, makes you think you can handle something this delicate when you can't even show up for a detention when it's assigned to you?"

Anakin squirmed, but Obi-Wan was not done yet.

"Worse, you can't trust me enough to tell me that you are getting in trouble. No, no, don't try to say that I was busy and you didn't want to bother me. The truth is that you feared what I would do and instead you wanted to avoid the consequences of your decisions. You have once again let your fear drive you. The whole reason you were in trouble to begin with was because you feared my leaving you behind for these negotiations and never coming back. You are desperate for my attention but you only want the kind of attention that suits your _wants_ not your _needs_."

_"But I helped you! I found out-"_

"This is not a give and take relationship of favors, Anakin," Obi-Wan cut in again. "This is about being a Jedi: A Jedi does what is right because it is right, not because it's convenient or because it benefits them, but because _it is right_. I did not get illegally fired and thrown in jail because I wanted to, but because it was the right thing to do. You did not fly out into space in an alien fighter because you wanted to, but because it was the right thing to do. I did not leave the Order because of any benefit to you or I, but because it was the right thing to do. That is how a Jedi lives.

"You are going to wish detention was the _only_ thing you had to do. When you get home you are going to start writing an essay on why Jedi cannot let emotions take complete control of them and I expect the first draft done by the time I get home. I also expect thoughtful letters of apology to every teacher you earned a detention from and to the assistant principal for the trouble you've caused. I will see you when I get home."

_"But-!"_

Obi-Wan turned off the terminal and disconnected his communicator. He had wanted to say more, but the pained look on Anakin's face was threatening to break him, and he'd cut himself off. Stars _above_ that had been difficult. Anakin was not the only one who had to deal with fear. Obi-Wan would have infinitely preferred dealing with the negotiations, or fighting Hutts, or even being lectured by his master than having to take such a firm hand with the boy. A year of being understanding and sympathetic was getting him nowhere, it _had_ to be done, but Obi-Wan was now petrified of what he would come home to. Would Anakin hate him now? And act out even _more_? Had he just made his life even _more_ complicated and difficult? He had never feared reactions from his friends; he occasionally feared Qui-Gon's reaction - but that was fear of seeing disappointment, and it drove him to do better. Why would he have such fear over a _child?_ A fear that the child wouldn't _like_ him? Space, what was _wrong_ with him?

_"Nothing is wrong, Padawan. You are simply as attached to him as he is to you."_

"Master," Obi-Wan lamented. "You're dead. This isn't real..." He rubbed his face again, his hands shaking slightly, and all too quickly he was in that refugee camp, late at night, reliving the death of his master and mourning his loss. How much sleep had he been getting? Not much, but that had been true since the move to Naboo. Was he so REM deprived that he was having daydreams, waking hallucinations? Groaning, he stood up, walking past the cooling unit and turning on a sink faucet. The water was ice cold and he splashed his face several times, running damp fingers through his hair.

"Ah, there you are!"

Obi-Wan turned to see Oerba at the doorway. "Break's over, time to get moving."

"... Yes. Yes, of course," the former Jedi said, straightening his posture and his shirt. "Lead the way."

The emotional baggage would, as always, have to wait. He struggled but was able to rearrange his thought patterns. Upon reentering the conference room, Obi-Wan took his customary seat and plugged his communicator into a datapad. Anakin had sent the files, and he kept an ear open as he perused them, trying to find the link that Anakin had. That the boy had used the Force in such a way was surprising and unorthodox; his creativity never ceased to catch Obi-Wan off guard. The data was surprisingly thorough and complete, and his eyes widened as he realized where some of the files came from. Anakin had done some very high level slicing in order to do this, and he wasn't even aware of it. Was it his childhood as a mechanic? Or a product of the Force?

Later. That could wait. He could use this. Life was about to get interesting.

Leaning over he whispered to Narmle, "I'm about to try something. Stay quiet a moment." Narmle nodded and started to spread the word.

"Gentlemen," Obi-Wan said expansively. "I think perhaps now would be a good time to share an anecdote."

"Whatever for?"

"I find the parallels will prove most enlightening, especially to you. You see, I am suddenly reminded of my last negotiation. My master and I were called to negotiate the end of a blockade. The taxation brackets on the Federal space lanes, as we all know, have been in debate for centuries: local governments want to keep the prices up so that they have income, businesses want prices low to maximize profit."

"It is an old debate and irrelevant," the head litigator said. "What's the point of this?"

"A moment," Obi-Wan said placidly, holding up a hand to forestall further interruption. "You see, my master rather thought the negotiations would be short. Nemoidians are not known for their... passionate rebuttals." Obi-Wan could hear whispers behind him. Naboo natives already knew what he was talking about. "Imagine our surprise, then, when the local Viceroy - instead of meeting us - flooded our chamber with nerve gas and sent B1 battle droids and destroyer droidekas after us." Oerba sucked in a breath and looked at him as if seeing Obi-Wan for the first time.

"A brazen tale, but I still fail to see the relevancy."

"Well, my master and I always wondered why Naboo was singled out. Even after the battle, I was still curious why the Trade Federation had such interest in the planet. It became much more apparent a few months later when Queen Amidala finally managed to complete the report on what had been done during the occupation. It seems that entire sectors of the planet had been razed so that droid factories could be built. It's all speculation, of course, and I am in hardly any position to point fingers and lay blame. However, I find it interesting that the Trade Federation so quickly gave up a planet they were space-bent on obtaining. It's just occurred to me, however, that they may not have completely left. After all, construction is a very profitable business, and it gives regular reports on city planning, zoning, population density, and details that a simple HoloNet search may not yield."

Chaos very nearly erupted in the entire conference room, but Obi-Wan had been prepared for it. Over the course of his tale he had been quietly planting suggestions of "calm" in everyone's mind. The last thing he needed was a full-scale riot. It was a calculated risk, some minds were stronger than others, and the collective gasp made him nervous, but all eyes were on him, he was in complete control of the room and it was worth the headache that was suddenly splitting through his skull as all the minds in the room became a cacophony of emotions. There were several whispers, one or two shouts but soon silence once again settled.

Obi-Wan did nothing, simply staring at the lead litigator, biding his time.

The head stared hard, a trickle of sweat on his forehead. His face had turned so red as to almost be purple, and his anger was palpable in the air. So was his fear. The consummate professional, however, was able to cool his head. "Is there an accusation somewhere in that sophistry?"

Got him.

Obi-Wan put on a bland smile. "Not at all," he said genially. "After all, I'm certain the Trade Federation would know better than to place incompetent leaders in charge of business on a planet they so desperately want. The impulse to make money cannot override the need to be subtle if such an affair transpired. If _I_ were on the Trade Federation board and intent on such a scheme, _I_ would make certain my laborers were treated so well they would have no cause for complaint, I would lavish the planet with donations and aid so that none would suspect me. I would also be certain that any litigator I needed to send to the planet did not have three board directors that were Federation members." Obi-Wan smiled again.

"But that's just me." Obi-Wan let the moment hand in the air, everyone gaping. Then,

"Gentlemen, I hope I've answered your question on relevance. If you don't mind, I've had a long day, and I think we all need a break. I move that we reconvene tomorrow after a good supper and a good night's sleep." His voice hardened. "I expect we'll _all_ be here. It would be a shame if anyone disappeared and an investigation needed to be started. It would only hurt both sides."

Chaos _did_ erupt then, people were shouting left and right and making all sorts of accusations, fingers were shaking and swears proliferated the air. Obi-Wan left the conference room and leaned against the hall wall. _Space_ he had a headache.

Oerba joined him first, filled with questions and overtaxed emotions, and Obi-Wan realized he would have to call Anakin soon. He was beginning to doubt he would make it home that night.

But, then, negotiations would be _very_ short after this.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** Anakin keeps trying. His heart is in the right place.

Obi-Wan being afraid of the reaction of a kid after coming down hard on him is something we both went through when we first started teaching. (Image still goes through this.) You DO want the kids to like you, it makes things go more smoothly, but the discipline needs to come in at some point, and Obi-Wan's been very light on it so far. Kids at Anakin's age aren't developmentally ready for the kind of abstract and outside-self thinking that Obi-Wan's trying to inflict on him. Anakin's been acting good to save up favors, but now that he's trying to pay in he's learning it doesn't work that way.

Working with children, particularly at that age, is a delicate balance. At 9-12, kids are still very kid-like. They'll still be all about playing games, having fun, being silly, what-have-you. They're still thinking in terms of "me". At about 12/13, however, abstract thought starts developing. Kids start thinking from other's point of view. It's not refined like mid-late teens, but it's starting. Anakin's not there yet and is still thinking more about his own wants and needs. Obi-Wan has been catering to that to some degree, aware that the abstract thought isn't there yet and is trying to approach Anakin in a way Anakin will understand.

But trust us. You can't give in to kids all the time. If a child thinks they can get away with anything, they'll keep doing more and more extreme things because they can. Again, that's the I-only-think-in-terms-of-me way. Granted, there are kids at that age who can look outside of self because parents have already been showing them via "how would you feel if" types of conversations, but some kids can hear that and still not quite get it. Therefore, there needs to be limits. Kids need to feel them. Not in a heavy-handed way, but they need to be aware of them and that if they step outside, there will be consequences. Kids won't like it. They'll probably fight back, sneak around it, etc, but once they grow up, they should respect you for it.

I (Mirror) sub in a "tough" school, and the kids will listen to me and follow my directions because they know that if they step out of line there will be consequences. (Usually just throwing them out since a sub can't do detention or a call home or things like that.) But I also spend time sitting with them, chatting, building rapport, hopefully before I need to do actual discipline. That way, they understand that I'm there for them and will work with them, but I won't let them walk all over me. There are other subs who just sit there and do nothing and the kids don't respect them at ALL.

Obi-Wan, because of how he's been addressing things with Anakin, has Anakin's respect and loyalty, but boundries weren't necessarily felt. After this, Anakin won't go stepping out of bounds so easily, at least not without thinking twice. Which is the whole point of discipline to begin with.

And in the meantime Jedi Obi-Wan p0wns the negotiation, we can add that to his list of p0wn4ge. It was a rare moment of fun to write the fic because he was being all powerful and Jedi-ish.

Oh, and Qui-Gon's memory-quotes might not be memory-quotes. (whistles innocently)

**Next Chapter: **Math. And travels.


	13. Chapter 13

**Part Thirteen**

Anakin was beyond frustrated. It had been a month, _a whole month_ since Obi-Wan had assigned him an essay to write about why Jedi couldn't let their emotions control him. A _month_. And Anakin _still wasn't done yet_. He was so ready for this to be _over_. He couldn't believe that Obi-Wan _still_ hadn't accepted _any_ of the drafts he'd given him. Seriously, what more did his brother want?

...And the worst part was how sincere Obi-Wan was. There was no anger at all whenever he looked over whatever Anakin submitted. Merely a tired sigh, a disappointed frown, and a quiet refusal that it wasn't good enough.

Obi-Wan had sat down with Anakin for long discussions, explaining Jedi, emotions, control, detachment, and a whole lot of philosophical stuff that just soared high above and over Anakin's head.

Yet whenever Anakin included what Obi-Wan talked about in his essay, it was summarily rejected.

"I want you to _learn_, Anakin. You hear me, you understand me, but you have not _learned_. I'm sorry, but you need to do this again. Don't simply repeat me. Think and learn from it."

It was enough to drive a kid insane.

There were times where Anakin was tempted beyond measure to just scream and yell and rant and rave at Obi-Wan, because surely, _surely_, _something_ in any of the two dozen attempts of the essay was salvageable. _Any_thing.

But he'd expressed anger in front of Obi-Wan before and it _never_ worked. Obi-Wan would just stand there, immobile and unmovable until Anakin finally petered out of energy. Anakin didn't even feel better after all of that, because Obi-Wan just didn't react.

Anakin didn't know what else to do for this _echuta_ essay.

And Obi-Wan didn't rejoice in his frustration and inability to write this _karking_ essay. Indeed, Obi-Wan occasionally seemed as frustrated as Anakin was and kept trying different methods to explain things for Anakin to help him learn.

This just made Anakin feel even more like a _koochoo_, because Obi-Wan was trying to teach him something. Something essential. And Anakin just didn't _get_ it.

It was all so _irritating_.

They had just settled into a new apartment since old man Jafan had evicted them. Their new landlady, a kindly old lady named Mrs. Hudson, had took them in with a wide smile saying that she would do anything for the man who had saved her granddaughter from the rubble after the invasion. Anakin was glaring at a new blank file on his datapad, _trying_ to think of something to get this _stoopa_ essay started _again_.

"Anakin," Obi-Wan sat in front of him quietly. "This isn't working."

"I _know_," Anakin growled. "I'm _trying_."

Obi-Wan gave a soft chuckle, mumbling "There is no try," in an imitation of that tiny Yoda guy that had denied Anakin the right to be a Jedi.

Anakin sighed, put down his pad, and looked to Obi-Wan, expecting another lecture, attempting to explain whatever it was that Anakin wasn't getting.

"Come Anakin. Let's take a survey."

Anakin fell forward. "Whaaat?"

They spent the rest of the day and the better part of two weeks interviewing just about_ everyone_ they came across. They interviewed all of Anakin's teachers, fellow tenants of Mrs. Hudson, the grocer where they bought their food, shop owners all along the marketplace, shoppers, Obi-Wan's former coworkers in construction, Obi-Wan's new coworkers as a mediator, anyone and everyone. Anakin took to keeping a datapad on him at all times for whenever Obi-Wan would randomly stop a person for this ridiculous survey.

As per Obi-Wan's instructions, Anakin took careful track of all the data they were collecting and reorganized each night before sitting down to meditate with his brother. Anakin didn't ask the questions, Obi-Wan did, since Obi-Wan was apparently looking for specifics that Anakin couldn't grasp. This led to side-questions that Anakin then had to figure out _how_ to work with in the data. The only things that remained steady over the course of the survey were the opening questions. Aside from basic data like age, and various statistics, the first question was always "What do you do?" followed almost immediately by "Why?" After that, Obi-Wan's questions varied, making Anakin struggle each night to categorize the answers into something that made sense.

He'd gone to Obi-Wan after a few days of data-collecting, saying that the survey needed to have set questions in order to be able to do any sort of analysis.

Obi-Wan had smiled gently, a twinkle in his eye, and replied that Anakin had been getting a constant flow of data that would be pertinent to his essay, Anakin just didn't see it.

Needless to say, Anakin was getting irritated again.

He was sitting on the bed in what was supposed to be his own room, but what he used more for studying and tinkering. (He would still crawl to Obi-Wan's room, thank you. It kept the nightmares away.) He was _glaring_ at the datapad in hand. _How_ was he supposed to sort all this data? About the only thing that he could actually _analyze_ was occupation and basic stats. As far as he could tell, he had a fairly good slice of Theed's population and their distribution across various jobs and trades. But that tenuous question of "Why?" that Obi-Wan _always_ asked that _always_ led to questions not on the survey was what _always_ refused to settle into neat little categories. And from what Anakin could sense from Obi-Wan, it was _that_ data, the stuff that resisted analysis tooth and nail, that held the key to _finally_ getting his essay done and _correct_.

Anakin was beyond fed up.

There was a polite knock on the doorframe and Anakin looked up to see his brother standing there quietly. "Dinner, Anakin."

_Food!_ Something he _could_ understand! He raced to their small kitchen (not kitchenette! A real kitchen!) to wash up and eagerly sit down with whatever delicious food Obi-Wan had decided to make that evening.

As was their tradition at dinner, the two of them started to discuss their days. Obi-Wan was settling into his new job as mediator and negotiator very well and had done yet another successful negotiation that day between Naboo's plumbing union (since all construction trades seemed to request Obi-Wan specifically, but that was no real surprise) and a local contractor who was running out of funds and trying to cut corners. Anakin talked about his day at school and, begrudgingly, admitted he'd landed in detention again for spacing out.

"I was trying to figure out all the data we've got," he grumbled. "I didn't mean to..."

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. "You weighed the pros and cons of paying attention in class and decided you could skip your education to work on what I have given you."

Anakin hated it when Obi-Wan put things like that. It made him feel guilty, because he was finally able to even _have_ an education. His classes and learning _was_ important to him, especially since slaves were denied anything beyond reading, writing, and only the most basic maths. He _never_ wanted to waste the chance to learn, but this survey was beyond puzzling and Anakin just wouldn't back down from it. And it was supposed to teach him something important.

"I weighed your lesson as more important than my teacher's," Anakin grumbled. That was closer to the truth than the way Obi-Wan had put it.

Obi-Wan nodded. "Then I won't add more to your detention. You are correct, the lesson I'm trying to teach you will likely be more important than what you're currently learning in school, but that doesn't give you carte blanche to skip out on other educations."

Anakin squirmed in his chair, still uncomfortable about having been caught not paying attention in class and the whole concept of his education and skipping out on it, something he'd never wanted to do. It just didn't feel right.

Obi-Wan smiled.

"Well, speaking of our survey, how is the analysis coming?"

Anakin's frustration with it boiled over. "I don't _get_ it, I just don't _get_ it! You say that all those extra questions you were asking were getting to the point of whatever it is, but none of their answers match at all! There's nothing in common!"

"With the specifics, no. But you need to look deeper."

"I _know_, but I don't know how much deeper I can look!"

"_Ask him those questions, Anakin. Then you'll have your own answers._"

Anakin didn't even stop to question that he'd just heard Qui-Gon talk to him directly, because he was just beyond aggravated, he didn't see what he needed to see, and he was just getting so sick of it.

"And what to you do, Obi-Wan? What's your job?" he demanded.

Obi-Wan's smile practically glowed. "I am a Jedi."

"Wrong!" Anakin shouted back. "You're a mediator! A negotiator!"

"No, Anakin, that's simply how I earn credits. I am a Jedi."

Anakin would not be sidetracked. "And why did you chose to be a Jedi?"

"Because of a desire to help people. I did not believe myself destined to be a farmer. I always thought that I could help people more directly."

_Farmer?_ Anakin shook his head. _Not getting sidetracked!_ Even though those opening questions were the only consistent ones and he didn't know what questions were supposed to come next, he still fired away. "What is it about being a Jedi that you like to do?"

"The ability to help others." Obi-Wan stood and started to clear their plates. "All across the galaxy, people suffer. Whether it's through circumstances, their own doing, or somebody's cruelty, it doesn't matter. As long as someone is suffering, I will do what I can to alleviate it. Because if I don't step forward to help, who will?"

"You gotta family?"

"Quite the extended one. The entire Jedi Order has been my family from the moment I arrived at the Temple."

"_Close_ family?"

"Two have been particularly close. My master, Qui-Gon Jinn, who saw my potential despite my own idiocy and anger issues, and a difficult little Padawan who seems set to be the death of me."

Anakin would _not_ let the warm little glow in his heart that Obi-Wan had _finally_ claimed him as family, though not brother, show on his face. He was still supposed to be irritated. "And how does being a Jedi affect them?"

"In every way imaginable. Which is why I will always be a Jedi. For them. To honor and help them. And everyone else I can see."

And suddenly, just like that, understanding flickered in Anakin's mind before spreading like wildfire.

Oh.

_Oh_.

Being a Jedi wasn't just a job. It was a way of life. Jedi might go out and negotiate treaties and help clear up disputes and act as ambassadors, but the official _religion_ of the Republic was the _Jedi_. Being Jedi was a state of being. A way of always helping others, putting others first. It had nothing to do with whatever rules or laws were there at the Temple, it was about being selfless all the time. Not because it would give you a reward, but because one simply _was_.

But to help others meant not getting angry all the time. This wasn't just about all that "must keep a clear head" stuff Obi-Wan had been talking about so much, it was about how, if Anakin was angry, he wasn't able to help people anymore. And deep down, in a part of his heart long buried to hide from Watto and Sebulba and the bravado needed to survive on Tatooine, all Anakin really wanted to do was help people. Like the fruit-lady at the market place in Mos Espa, like his mother, like that Tusken in the desert. Like Qui-Gon. Like Obi-Wan. He told himself that he helped them because they were nice to him and important to him. But the Tusken Anakin had helped, under different circumstances would likely have killed him. Yet Anakin had helped anyway. Because he couldn't _not_ help someone hurt like that.

That all changed when Anakin was angry. When he was angry it wasn't about helping others anymore, it was about _himself_. What _he_ felt what _he_ wanted to do so that _he_ could feel better, even though later he never did. Which was a running theme with several of the people they had surveyed. Several had chosen careers that they wanted _for_ _themselves_, something _to benefit themselves_. It was all about _them_. But for all of those people that chose for only one person, there were just as many who chose their profession _for others_, who had a desire _to do something for others_. And even that was an oversimplification, because the average person had complex intertwined reasoning that involved a little selfishness and a little selflessness, particularly when it came to their own family.

But a Jedi didn't just _act_ selflessly. They _were_ selfless. And anger just got in the way. It was why it was to be ignored, put aside, then released to the Force so it wouldn't fester into something uncontrollable. Jedi preached how they couldn't let their feelings rule them, but really, Anakin couldn't see how love couldn't guide people to selflessness or happiness or joy could lead to not being selfless. But anger... yes, Anakin could see why letting anger guide anyone would be selfish.

"_Very good._"

Anakin wasn't sure of that was Obi-Wan or Qui-Gon, but his head was still spinning, so he didn't even try to puzzle it out.

... He really needed to start nurturing that desire to help others. And not to make Obi-Wan happy or proud, but because Anakin always wanted to be a Jedi and that's what he needed to do.

Well, he'd get plenty of practice for that.

Obi-Wan would be leaving for Coruscant at the end of the month for the trial of Nute Gunray. They may have tight credits, but Anakin was determined. He'd start helping people more often and not worry about his own situation with Obi-Wan and how long it would take to save enough to buy his mother's freedom or get lightsabers, or stuff like that. He'd start helping people because he _wanted_ to and he'd been stifling that impulse for too long.

"I think you can write that essay now, Anakin."

* * *

Panaka had disappeared to talk to the pilot, ever mindful of security. Padme watched him go before walking the narrow halls. She was still adjusting to not being surrounded by handmaidens. After over a year of being surrounded by look-alikes that helped her get things done she felt oddly isolated. None of it showed on her face, however, as she stepped into a booth and settled herself for take off. Travel to Coruscant would take perhaps a week, certainly not the three it had taken the last time she made the journey. She wondered if she would see Palpatine again, but her old mentor was now the Supreme Chancellor and likely very busy. He had made it very clear to her that he wanted desperately to take part but couldn't see how.

In the end, Padme decided, that was probably for the best. She didn't want the trial of Nute Gunray to get any special treatment - even the perceived bias of one former Naboo senator.

Sio had left her with several files and reports of Gunray's occupation. She found it very odd that Sio didn't come, nor any of the other members of the governmental staff, but then Padme reasoned that there wouldn't be many people left to take care of Naboo if something happened.

No, Obi-Wan would take care of it, and the thought made her smile. She wondered if he had testified yet, or if it would come later.

The room vibrated suddenly, and the deeply muffled drone of the engines warming up started to filter into the room. She got up to see out the viewport - Panaka's caution forgotten, and watched the hangar she had just been in shrink as they climbed to orbit. She could see the start of the spaceport construction (that would be years in the making) and she thought of the former Jedi again. Her office had been flooded with reports about the strikes, but per Obi-Wan's advice she kept her distance, though no one in or on the governmental staff could miss her opinion on the matter. For a while she had been concerned that Obi-Wan had over estimated his skills, but the about-face the private litigators did - literally overnight, apparently - made her remember just what a Jedi, former or not, was capable of. She later heard that so many people had come to ask help in union negotiations he had to leave his job as a laborer and start up a business. _That_ little tidbit had made her smirk. She never understood what made him pick construction in the first place, and she knew that this job would suit him much better. Padme had already decided, if she were elected a second term, she would assess his practice and then hire him out for her own negotiations.

"Your Majesty," Panaka's voice groaned, "Windows."

Embarrassed that she had been caught, she pulled away from the ever-shrinking sphere of Naboo, a protest on her lips.

Three hours and a lecture later, Padme was still grumbling as she entered the galley. She stopped when she saw the object of her earlier thoughts sitting at a table alone. Obi-Wan had somehow managed to cross both of his legs onto the chair, knees dangling out over nothing, his eyes closed in meditation. It struck her suddenly how much he reminded her of Master Qui-Gon on Tatooine. No matter what time she woke up he was always sitting at the table, eyes closed in meditation before the day started.

Not wanting to disturb him, she quieted her footsteps and asked the chef to prepare a quick meal. Tray full of a fiber-and-protein soup, she also took a bottle of instant tea. Panaka came in, already investigating the security of the galley, it seemed, and in a huff Padme marched over to Obi-Wan's table and took a seat. She set her glare to "See? I'm sitting next to a _Jedi_ so I _know_ how to take care of myself, _thank you_," and started to eat. She knew Panaka was bristling, but she steadfastly ignored him until his sweep was done and he was gone. Or at least hidden.

Finally able to relax, Padme pulled out her datapad and once more looked over Sio's report. She was still concerned that he hadn't been asked to testify, and after she'd heard a few reports on Nute Gunray's team of lawyers she wondered if it wasn't significant. Obi-Wan, too, was a concern given his current situation.

"Your Majesty has far too many worries for her small shoulders to carry."

Padme startled. "Obi-Wan! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt."

"It was not an interruption, so at least don't add that worry to the pile."

Smirking slightly, Padme said, "Don't tell me that Jedi don't worry."

" 'A worry had better scurry else the learning will be blurry,' " Obi-Wan said, at last opening his eyes. "My clan head would often tell me this to no avail."

"Ah," Padme replied, "So you _do_ worry."

"Your Majesty, these days I have more worries than I can count," he countered, rubbing a hand along his forehead, "But I know that time spent worrying about it detracts from the time that could be spent trying to fix it; or, lacking that, admitting that there is nothing that can be done and simply move on." The former Jedi took a sip of his tea, leaning back slightly in his chair.

Padme took a moment to study him. His hair was still growing out, but someone had taken cutters to them and it looked much more even and cared for. Somehow he had cleaned and patched his Jedi cloak, it looked brand new, and she startled to realize he was no longer wearing work clothes but Jedi tunics and trousers. The only thing missing was a lightsaber. The dark circles under his eyes were still present, he still wasn't sleeping at night it seemed, but she took comfort in the fact that they weren't as pronounced as when she last saw him. The memory sparked another litany of concerns for Obi-Wan and the upcoming trial.

Something must have shown on her face, because Obi-Wan's light grin faded, and he leaned forward slightly. "Would you like to talk about it?" he asked. "I've been told I'm a very good listener," he added in lighter tones.

Padme smiled in spite of herself. "A negotiator like you would," she teased.

His earnest look made her realize how serious he was in his offer and she realized this would be an excellent opportunity to warn him. "Perhaps we can talk in my cabin," she said, soup forgotten.

"As you wish," he said.

The cabin lights were dim; the ship had already switched to Coruscant time to ease jetlag over the week-long trip. It was hardly the extravagance of the palace but Padme did have two soft couches, a low table between them, and a spherical lamp that cast the room in a low orange glow. Obi-Wan sat - once more cross-legged, on one couch while Padme took the other.

"Obi-Wan," she said slowly, trying to piece her thoughts together. "Have you ever testified at a trial before?"

The question seemed to confuse the former Jedi for a moment, but he answered, "On occasion. My master did it much more often, but there were times when my testimony was necessary."

"So you've had experiences with criminal trials, then."

Obi-Wan leaned back slightly. "A Jedi can often be called to trial, we are considered impartial observers, and so our word carries a certain amount of weight. Similarly, sometimes our missions will uncover criminal behavior or lead to parties filing suits against one another. Usually Master Qui-Gon would recount the events like he would report to the Council. I expect little deviation in this."

Padme closed her eyes, remembering what the social worker Shamde had said, that Obi-Wan vacillated from shockingly insightful or knowledgeable to unbelievably naïve. "Obi-Wan, this is going to be a public trial of a very rich being, with very expensive litigators."

She was surprised to see a note of humor enter Obi-Wan's eyes. "Ah," he said. "Let me assure you that I've recently had experience with the Viceroy's primary law firm. And besides, it would take better men, better assassins, than what they could acquire to dispose of a Jed. I will be watchful, your Majesty, but honestly my testimony will not account for much. Your governing advisors will provide much more damning evidence. I will ultimately be redundant."

Honestly, the thought of assassins had never occurred to her, and she suddenly found herself glad Panaka was so overly cautions. It also made her wonder what kind of missions Obi-Wan experienced to make him say that-but on reflection Padme decided she really didn't want to follow that line of thought. She also wanted to strangle the poor redhead, and on this impulse she took a calming breath before making her case.

"Obi-Wan, assassins and physical assault may not be necessary. All they would have to do is cast doubt on a witness's testimony."

Obi-Wan actually blinked at that, his mind processing what she said. Then, a very neutral expression fell over his features. "I am a Jedi," he said slowly, "my testimony is impartial."

"You are a _former_ Jedi," Padme corrected. "You left the Order and that automatically calls anything you say to question. No one has ever left the Jedi, and Gunray's litigators will have a field day with it."

She watched carefully as Obi-Wan absorbed the words, but his face was completely closed off now, like he had been that horrible night when he told her his master was dead before Anakin came skipping along. Padme thought this might be how he looked when he was distressed, and she hated causing such a distant expression on his face, but it was necessary. She opened her mouth to speak but Obi-Wan murmured something, cutting her off.

"_Nineteen_..."

"What?"

"Nineteen people have left the Order since it's inception twenty-five thousand years ago. Only nineteen. There are busts of them in the Archives. Their biographies-" he stopped, color draining from his face, making the dark circles under his eyes more pronounced. He looked up, his neutral exterior showing signs of fraying. "Your Majesty, I have not left the Order. I am still a Jedi, it is a way of life I have not - I _cannot_ walk away from."

...Who was he trying to convince? "You know that," she said, trying to sound reassuring, or at least placating, "and I know that, and Master Yoda knows that, I think, but the galaxy at large will not see it that way. The _lawyers_ will not see it that way, and they will use it to throw doubt on everything you say."

Something inside him seemed to snap, and he abruptly stood up. "Thank you, your Majesty, for informing me of this. I should go meditate on this possibility and-"

Padme got up just as quickly, reaching out with her tiny hand and grabbing his arm. She wasn't remotely near strong enough to hold him, but he stilled all the same. "Obi-Wan, please," she said, taking a shot in the dark, "You can't keep things like this bottled up. You need someone to talk to, a support system. I've talked to Shamde, I know you haven't even tried to make a support system on Naboo even while you offer support to everyone else. You'll wear yourself out. You need to-"

"I need to meditate, your Majesty," Obi-Wan said, back still to her. His head tilted slightly upward, perhaps to look at the ceiling. "'A worry had better scurry,' remember?"

"Obi-Wan, don't you have anyone? Anakin's too young, but..." her sentence failed her, and she desperately hoped Obi-Wan had an answer for it.

Instead, he said, "I have the Force. That is all a Jedi should need."

* * *

Obi-Wan all but ran to his cabin, thoughts swirling in a million different directions. Padme, whether she knew it or not, had broken one of his most crucial defenses in surviving the last year. He had spent all those months convinced that he was a Jedi, that he hadn't _really_ left the Order; he had deluded himself into believing - late at night when he was desperate for solace - that they would see what he was doing and maybe someday take him back.

What a fool he was!

Yoda, Siri, Padme, everyone had been right; he had _left_, all to train Anakin. Yoda had issued the ultimatum, and Obi-Wan, numb with grief and determined to do at least one thing right for his Master, and made his choice. There could be no justification for it. He had left. He had _left_ the _Order_. He was now the Twentieth. Was there a bust of him in the Archives? A biography explaining he had been a Knight for only a few hours before he had turned his back on everything? Master Poof, Siri, they had all said that he had thrown away everything, even his identity, to train Anakin; and they were right. He was no Jedi. He wasn't even _close_ to one. A Jedi would never have gotten scammed by an employer, never allowed so many problems with Anakin, never been so naïve about the galaxy. What an idiot!

He was shaking when he finally made it to his broom closet of a cabin. The courts would not pay the travel expenses, he still had no savings, and had been forced to take the cheapest cabin; nothing more than a hole in the ship with a bed and a sink. He fumbled into a kneeling position, closing his eyes and trying to force his body into relaxing. He needed to meditate; he needed to deal with this latest crisis that he hadn't even known was coming.

Looking at it objectively, the litigators were going to have a field day with him: A Jedi who left the Order, who had a record of being arrested (circumstances notwithstanding), working as a day laborer. If it was the same firm that had handled the negotiations, then they likely knew his skills as a negotiator and were planning how to corner him. Space, what was he going to do? It would be child's play to paint him as an incompetent Force wielder, too selfish to follow the Jedi way and too stupid to acquire employment of merit - after all, construction was droid work, those that did it for a living had to have droid intelligence, or lack thereof.

He felt sick, he was so _tired_ and he didn't know how much more he could take. He was already having so many problems with Anakin and even with the help of their new landlord they had no savings to speak of and now he was in the middle of starting up a business - a new venture he knew absolutely nothing about and was no doubt making another litany of mistakes over.

Would he ever, _ever_ stop making mistakes?

Desperate, he reached out to the Force, looking for solace.

Instead, all he could feel was: _The Darkness is there. It is growing._

And he was left even more worried that when he started. He fell forward, his elbows smacking into the cool metal floor, and he pitched to his side, curled in a small ball.

_Master! Please, I can't do this anymore!_

He shook and heaved, once more in that pit of grief. He had nothing, _nothing_ at all. His family had abandoned him and now he was to be ridiculed because of it. There was no one to help him, he had to figure this all out himself, but he was just so _tired_. He craved to be a youngling again, to feel Qui-Gon's strong, massive hands on his shoulders and feel his presence in his mind. He wanted to seek advice from Master Yoda, or play with his friends. Life had been so _simple_ then!

He stayed like that for what felt like hours, unable to calm his mind, unable to turn his feelings off or release them to the Force. The negative emotions stuck and clung to him, scraping against his psyche and refusing to let go, dragging him down even further as he realized he wasn't even skilled enough to overcome this minor hurdle.

He was such a disappointment! When would he ever do anything right?

His only solace came when exhaustion finally overtook him.

* * *

_"Oh, Obi-Wan. It will only get better when you learn to let me go."_

* * *

**Author's Notes:** At last, Anakin _gets_ it. Keeping it is relative fore kids his age, but now he understands what it means to _be_ a Jedi, and he knows how to start nurturing it. Amazing what math can do. And Anakin gets this more than just having Obi-Wan explain, explain, explain. Deeper-meaning stuff like this takes figuring it out yourself, which is hard to really "teach".

Padme pushed too far, again.

Obi-Wan angsted. Again.

And Qui-Gon, well...

Gawd it took weeks to finish this chapter. The inspiration had long since dried up by this point and we were just looking to finish the damn thing. It took weeks to get through the negotiation; it took even _longer_ to get through this: the trial. Most of it fell on only one twin (nature of the beast), and it would take _days_ before any kind of inspiration or thread of an idea could come up, and even then it was just writing a sentence or two, stare at the page or screen, then write another.

The last angst-heavy bit is the last angsty section of the story. It's a backslid-moment for Obi-Wan, but despite his own personal beliefs, he _is_ doing better over all. He's plugging along through his grief and is merely facing a lot of the causes all at once, which is what causes the backslide.

But Obi-Wan is finally going up in the world. Amazing what getting some help can do. Plus, people now know about him and trust him. He's not settled yet, but he is finally in a better position than he was before. It's about time.

Overall the chapter came out okay. Padme always seems to make an impression when she shows up in this fic and now we at last start inching towards the conclusion.

**Next Chapter: **A reunion. And introduction.


	14. Chapter 14

**Part Fourteen**

Padme looked across the Courscanti sky, admiring the beauty that only a city could bring with the straight lines of skyscrapers perpendicular to the busy flows of air traffic. Chaotic order as citizens defied nature with machinery, lights, all milling about their ordered lives in buildings that bore no order other than reaching for the heavens. There was a beauty to it. But it wasn't the kind of beauty that Padme thought she could truly appreciate. She'd always preferred the melding of nature and stonework with the aged copper work of Theed. The balance of tree lined streets with the majestic Solleu River with the straight walls and curved roofs.

They were approaching a floating landing platform, where transport had already been arranged to take her to the apartments she and her staff would be staying during the trial. She could see a neat row of airtaxis lined up for her, her handmaidens, and likely many of the other passengers. Padme wondered offhand if one of them was there for Obi-Wan and what sort of arrangements he'd made for his stay. While he was certainly making more credits with his new mediation business, there was no denying that he hadn't had the business long and likely didn't have much saved.

Padme's thoughts paused as her eyes narrowed.

Down on the platform was a group of people in hooded cloaks of various sizes and shapes. One in particular drew her eye and that was the tiny green-skinned form of Master Yoda.

Her lips thinned. When she'd overheard the ultimatum that Yoda had presented to Obi-Wan, there was no denying that Yoda had sounded like a parent or grandparent trying to reign in an unruly child. Obi-Wan's decision to stay on Naboo had hurt the small Jedi, but Padme couldn't bring herself to have any sympathy for the exalted master. Yoda had returned to his Order and kept going. Obi-Wan had struggled. A great deal. And Obi-Wan had left because he wouldn't abandon his family, even if he never acknowledged it as such and shut down whenever she dared push it.

Padme was Nabooan. Her people were descended from nomadic tribes and she understood how important one's clan was. For all that Nabooan parents had to deal with willful or unruly children, just like any other civilization, the one thing family never did was abandon one another. Even if helping was watching someone fail, one was still there. Because without family, one had nothing.

It was why her people loved her so much. For Padme, her entire planet was her family and she would never abandon them. They knew and understood that, no matter what they thought of whatever her actual political views were.

And one of the newest members of her family, Obi-Wan Kenobi, would not face the Jedi alone. She would be remiss if she didn't do anything.

"Captain Panaka," she said, every inch the Queen. "Find Knight Kenobi. He will disembark with us."

"Yes, your Majesty."

She stared out the window for some time, reigning in her feelings. For all of her emotional maturity, she understood that she was fifteen and that she had hormones that were changing her body, making her prone to mood swings as her body developed to adulthood. Part of why her people considered her an adult was because she could reign in her moods and still do things with a clear head.

That didn't stop it when feelings surged forth to try and overwhelm her. And at that moment, she was feeling incredibly protective of Obi-Wan, a Knight and who had defended her and was learning to live a normal life. He may be a good ten years her senior, but his situation was bringing out what Padme's mother had once described as a mother's protective drive. That protectiveness came out whenever her people were threatened, and if someone she considered family was in danger, she would fight with everything she had.

Those Jedi down there were going to have a piece of her mind about what they'd done.

But that was her mood talking. Padme took another deep breath and reigned her feelings in. Through her talks with Shamde, she had come to realize that Jedi culture was incredibly foreign from what she had grown up with on Naboo. She would treat that culture with respect.

An image of Obi-Wan sitting in a chair looking dirty and lost but pretending everything was under control after a night in the refugee camps flashed across her mind and an eyebrow twitched.

Maybe she _should_ say something.

"Greetings, your Majesty. To what do I owe the honor?" came the amused smile of Obi-Wan himself.

Padme turned, her heavy robes and intricate hair barely fluttering. "Seeing as we both will be testifying, I believe it best for us to stay together for safety," she said, completely omitting the real reason. "If you have already made arrangements, I will see that you are refunded. You will stay with my staff for the duration of our stay for this trial."

Obi-Wan smiled brightly. "Very good, your Majesty, but I think you're calling me here has more to do with who is on the landing platform. Therefore I must decline your request."

A corner of Padme's mouth threatened to creep up into a smile, but she held her face impassive. "That may have initiated the thought, Knight Kenobi, but it is sound reasoning nonetheless. You mention you have dealt with assassins. I have not. Your experience will be a benefit for my security detail and I will provide proper compensation for your services. I'd imagine you will take less than what is appropriate, but it will still help you with starting your business. It is mutually beneficial."

Obi-Wan's grin was utterly amused. "Sound reasoning or not, it still feels like charity. I will ask for help, your Majesty, but I will not ask for charity. I've told you this before."

There was the lightest of thuds as their ship finally docked with the landing platform.

"What I offer is not charity," she replied smoothly, "but opportunity. A few extra credits would no doubt help and you _will_ earn them. Captain Panaka will go over our security measures on our way and you can offer the insights you have gained and start implementing strategies. I assure you, this is a one-time chance for my security to learn from a Jedi how to anticipate threats. You will no doubt be very busy going through scenarios or strategies during our time here. It will be pay well earned."

Obi-Wan still looked oh-so-amused at her attempts to have him join her, but he finally bowed. "As you wish, your Majesty. As I am now one of your citizens, I must listen to what milady commands."

"I do not command this of you, Knight Kenobi. I merely request."

Obi-Wan chuckled. "No, milady, it is a command shaped as a request. But there is no point in fighting the inevitable. I merely chose not to get into a prolonged argument about it."

Padme stepped forward as the light above her cabin door lit green, showing it was time to disembark. Obi-Wan, ever the gentleman offered his arm, which she took. "You are indeed a wise man, Knight Kenobi."

"You think too much of me."

Padme didn't respond. She could not give confidence with words. Real confidence didn't come from others but from believing in yourself. Obi-Wan, who had been essentially dumped into a foreign environment with an entirely different culture than what he lived day to day and had struggled for every gain he had, wouldn't have confidence in himself until his life was well and truly settled.

She had hoped that after almost a year on Naboo, he would have finally settled comfortably into his new life. But he still appeared to struggle and he would not take her assistance.

So she said nothing.

Besides, she was already focusing on the Jedi that were stepping forward to greet them.

"Master Yoda," she greeted, her Queen-voice still flat, but perhaps a bit chillier.

"Queen Amidala," the tiny Jedi replied. "Good it is, to see you again. Yes. But better circumstances, I would have wished for."

"I as well," she nodded. Diplomacy. She was a Queen and she represented her world. She would be polite to this Jedi, no matter her feelings because she did not want to reflect badly of her family and home.

Yoda glanced at Obi-Wan, his face weighed in sadness before the tiny Jedi addressed her again. "Unfortunate, it is, that the trail does not go well."

Padme frowned heavily. "I have not heard. Surely the evidence against Gunray is overwhelming."

"Surely, yes. Surely." Yoda looked down. "But presented the evidence will not be. Crafty, the defense litigators are. Crafty indeed. Thrown out much evidence has been. Either 'illegally obtained' or 'inadmissible' or something else, the defense claims."

Padme was a Queen. With her face painted and her very body weighed down by robes and hair like her position weighed down responsibility, her face would remain impassive and neutral. But inside, she wailed against the injustice of it. There should be no doubt of Nute Gunray's guilt. Yet if things are going as poorly as Yoda implied...

She turned to Obi-Wan. "It would seem our testimony is neither redundant nor unimportant. Instead, we shall be vital to ensuring clarity so that justice may be served."

Obi-Wan said nothing, his face as impassive as hers. He merely nodded.

Yoda continued. "Familiar with the law firm, the Jedi are. While happened in this trial, it has not, known it is that witnesses can disappear if this firm appears."

Padme nodded. "We are aware of this," she replied, not mentioning that she'd only really been aware of the possibility since Obi-Wan had mentioned it. "Captain Panaka and Knight Kenobi will have our security well in hand."

Yoda nodded. "Hmmm, a valuable asset young Obi-Wan is. Very valuable. But assign a Jedi we will, as an extra precaution."

Emotion was swirling in Padme. The tiny master wasn't even _addressing_ Obi-Wan. And it felt like he was undervaluing what Obi-Wan could even _do_. Obi-Wan was a Jedi Knight. But they were assigning someone else to help, completely ignoring Obi-Wan's capability.

"I appreciate your concern," she said, her voice as monotone as ever, "but it is unnecessary. As Knight Kenobi is aware of the Force, he shall be more than adequate and Captain Panaka is ever vigilant, especially since the Trade Federation's turmoil put me in such danger."

Obi-Wan stepped forward and knelt before the tiny Jedi. "Master Yoda."

Yoda turned, his face filled with sadness. "Young Obi-Wan. Missed you, we all have."

"Yes, Master."

"Readily welcome you, we will, if ready you are to return to us."

Padme watched as Obi-Wan straightened his spine. "I am appreciative of that, Master. But I have not truly left. I am, and will always remain, a Jedi. My Padawan does well."

Yoda gave a sorrowful sigh, shaking his head. "Determined you are, to take this path."

"I have never been more certain of the Force's will." Obi-Wan bowed respectfully. "While I cannot speak for Queen Amidala, I can say that I would not mind an extra hand helping with security. Another set of eyes is always beneficial, particularly when we are all focused on ensuring that Gunray is properly tried for his crimes."

Padme stilled, closing her eyes. Despite her best efforts, her feelings had run away with her again. The point of being here was Gunray's conviction, not whatever acknowledgement the Jedi gave Obi-Wan, not the struggles Obi-Wan had had to deal with. Her focus had wandered.

No wonder Obi-Wan was already making a name for himself as a mediator. He could see the heart of any issue and completely address the matter without even appearing to.

"Very well, Knight Kenobi," she said quietly. "I will bow to your wisdom on this matter."

Obi-Wan turned and gave her an amused, if slightly strained smile. "Please, milady. While I live as a Jedi, to the rest of the galaxy I no longer am one. As such, I am no longer a Knight."

Padme internally smiled. "Not so, Knight Kenobi. We of Naboo always address people properly, and even if the title was held for mere hours, you will always be a Knight for my people."

Obi-Wan sighed, standing again and returning to his place behind her.

"Have you any other concerns, Master Yoda?" she turned to the tiny Jedi.

Yoda still looked sadly at Obi-Wan, before turning to her. "Merely wish for your safety, I do." He turned to the Jedi behind him and gestured. A tall human Jedi of many years stepped forward. "Accompany you, Master Dooku will. In good hands, you all are."

Padme ignored the feeling of chaffing at the Jedi giving her a bodyguard, but merely nodded her head.

"May the Force be with you," she said in parting.

"May the Force be with you," Yoda replied, looking down sadly.

* * *

"Your Majesty, please."

"No, it's an invasion of privacy!"

"It's necessary for your security!"

"Captain...!"

Dooku watched, reticent, as Kenobi quickly stepped in. "Your Majesty, Captain Panaka is correct, for your protection we must have security cameras everywhere."

"But it's my _bedroom_! And my _bathroom_!" the tiny queen hissed, her irate face visible even through the layers of make up.

Kenobi held up a hand to forestall further litany, and Dooku observed the Queen quickly comply. "Your Majesty, can I assume that your objection is that the vast majority of your security staff are male, and you wish to not have such an invasion of your privacy?"

"I don't want _anyone_-"

"That is impossible, Your Majesty, but I have an appropriate compromise. Captain Panaka, as I recall you do have a female security officer on your staff, is that not correct?"

The dark man was frowning uproariously, but he was able to churn out and growling, "Yes."

"Very well, then she will be the one to observe those specific monitors. How does that sound, Your Majesty?"

Amidala, like her captain, was frowning deeply, her mind turning, before finally saying, "... No men?"

"No men."

And, just like that, Amidala straightened, her face smoothing out to calm serenity, and she said, "I am not happy, but the arrangement is satisfactory for the circumstances."

Dooku raised an eyebrow, still hanging back, curious how Kenobi would get the obviously upset Panaka onto his side. After Amidala left to her precious room to unpack, Kenobi turned to the captain. "Your woman, is she capable?"

"She's new and only partly trained," Panaka said, his voice low as to not attract the queen's attention from the other room. "She does not know what to look for every circumstance."

"Then assign a veteran to her," Kenobi said simply. "Just make certain he's not by those monitors when she decides to inspect the compromise to be upheld."

Panaka visibly relaxed with relief and disappeared down a hall to speak to his subordinates.

... In the span of less than five minutes young Kenobi had managed to take two excessively willful people and bring them to a middle ground; not only that, he kept the queen's security up to par without stepping on anyone's toes. That was skill. To be expected of Qui-Gon's last apprentice, of course, but it was so... surprising. Dooku quite literally did not know what to make of the former Jedi.

For the last year, since learning of Qui-Gon's death, Dooku had done everything in his power to catch up on his former apprentice's life. They had lost touch, especially in the last two decades, and Dooku was remiss. It was perhaps too little, too late, but he wanted to learn as much as he could about his former apprentice, to gain an insight to what his last moments were. He had read though the reports of all Qui-Gon's apprentices, particularly young Kenobi. The child was green as an Alderaan cucumber, but there was talent there, and as he read the reports, witnessed Kenobi grow over more than a dozen years tutelage, he had seen the bright intelligence, powerful will, and caution that Qui-Gon had never been able to master. Moreover, he had seen how Qui-Gon had changed over those dozen years, how a man determined to never risk his heart come to place complete trust in his Padawan. That was a feat Dooku had been certain no one could accomplish. These were all ringing endorsements to young Kenobi's character.

And yet he had left the Order.

Over a youngling.

Dooku was not blind; he saw the Council: Yoda's grandiose disappointment, Mace's barely concealed contempt, the complete puzzlement of Poof and others. The _Council_, no less. _These_ were scathing defamation of his character. The conundrum had left Dooku uncertain what to expect, but whatever he had anticipated, it had not been this.

The Kenobi he was watching, had been watching ever since the disembarking, was quiet; unassuming. He did not assert himself until it was necessary, was succinct and cultured in his choice of words, unfailingly polite. And yet under that ability to blend in was a _spine_; he stood up to Yoda while still showing him respect and even deference to some degree. Would that other Knights could stand up to the Council the way that boy did.

Ah, but he was not a Knight, and the circle came back to the starting point. Dooku was not one for speaking to a person until he had the full measure of the man, but this appeared to be one of the numerous exceptions to the rule. Kenobi was a man who could only be assessed through interaction.

He stepped forward.

"You have some skill in negotiation," he said simply, referring to the security problem that had so recently been quelled.

Kenobi looked up, looking slightly startled at being addressed (or perhaps a little weary) before covering very quickly. "Given that my current profession is in negotiation, one would hope that I had the skill."

"And yet you still call yourself a Jedi," Dooku offered, getting right to the point.

Kenobi sighed, running a hand through his red hair before rubbing his forehead. He sat on one of the sofas in Padme's rooms and offered the other to Dooku; the Jedi taking it slowly, his eyes never leaving Kenobi.

"I suppose we should get this out of the way right now," the boy said. "I can only imagine what rumors the Temple has been accumulating, but since we will be working together on security, you need to know that I can be trusted; and so I will tell you this once: I am a Jedi. Whatever the Council has decided, I still follow the Code. I wake up every morning at dawn to practice kata, I meditate every evening with my Padawan after his lessons, I adhere to the precepts and follow the will of the Force when it reveals itself to me. 'Jedi' may no longer be my profession, but it is still my _life_, and so you have nothing to fear from me."

"Then why did you leave?"

"Master Yoda presented me an ultimatum," Kenobi said, his face closed off as he leaned back and crossed his arms; body language to defense. Clearly the topic was still a sore spot. Dooku did not need to be told, however. Kenobi was right on that score, the Temple was great for rumormongering. He was about to press the point when the Queen arrived from her sleep chamber, clearly having heard the conversation and deciding it was time to step in.

"I do not feel it is necessary to interrogate a fellow Knight," she said in calm but decidedly cross tones. "He has my implicit trust and confidence, as does the rest of my staff. If you wish to doubt his character you must first doubt mine, and so if you have questions you may ask them to me."

"Your Majesty," Kenobi said, sounding put out, "This is hardly nece-"

"You are currently employed as my security staff," Amidala said, utterly formal but fiercely defensive, "If Master Dooku has questions about my staff it would be much easier to ask me first before interviewing anyone; and I am more than happy to give him my opinion."

Dooku learned very quickly that he would get very little from Kenobi while Amidala was on the warpath.

* * *

The Convocation Chamber in the Senate building was, arguably, the most famous room in the entire galaxy. Every elementary school in the galaxy had a picture of it, for thousands of years it was the seat of democracy; it had become the symbol for equality, fair chances, and equal opportunity. It was, perhaps because of that symbolism, why the courtrooms in the Judiciary building mimicked the Convocation Chamber's design.

The courtroom holding Nute Gunray's trail was ovular in shape, seating surrounding the proceedings so that all possible views could be beheld. Unlike the Senate that had to house thousands of delegates, this room only held just over a hundred. The cameras broadcast the trial, but ultimately it was a closed affair. Dooku approved, partly through pragmatism: the room would be a fiasco if commoners were allowed in, and the risk to security was too great if just anyone could come in to observe. Dooku did not want even the reporters there, but Palpatine's new policies called for transparency in all proceedings, and several channels were created to broadcast things such as courtroom proceedings. Privately, however, he liked the closed courtroom because he did not want anyone else there. Gunray did not need an audience, and the more he was denied the more Dooku took satisfaction that the man responsible for his Padawan's death was uncomfortable.

When he had learned of Qui-Gon's death, he had become obsessed with the events leading up to it. Kenobi was the key to it; only he was there in those last moments, and Dooku wanted every possible opportunity to milk their time together to glean what he could. Had Qui-Gon thought of Dooku in his last moments? Unlikely, of course, but Dooku's ego kept finessing the idea. Had his former Padawan suffered? How had the Sith, if the reports were true, bested him?

As security, Dooku escorted Kenobi and Amidala from their temporary apartments to the courtroom, where they were safely ensconced in witness waiting rooms. After a thorough inspection, the Jedi master had deemed everything safe, and had quietly dismissed himself to the courtroom to watch the trial. Standing quietly on the outermost circumference, he could see Masters Yoda and Windu also bearing witness to the trial, Yoda placid as ever but Mace watched with a hard eye, clearly determined to see Gunray brought to justice. Or, if Dooku were honest (and Mace would not be), the Council leader wanted to get the Nemoidian alone and pump information about the Sith. High rolling members of the Trade Federation were there, of course, whispering back and forth conspiratorially. The defense team was massive, while the prosecution had only a half dozen members - none of them the Chief Prosecutor.

The trial overall was frightfully one-sided. Yoda had not been exaggerating when he informed Kenobi and Amidala about the volume of information that had been thrown out through technicalities and other sophistries. The defense litigators were, from one point of view, very, very good. From another, however, what they were carrying out was anything but justice. Dooku watched very carefully. Justice would be very important; it _had_ to be, for what else were the Jedi good for? So much had been lost over the years, _something_ good had to come out of this trial. Gunray _had_ to be brought to bear for his fate in killing Qui-Gon; if he didn't there was no way Dooku, no way the _Jedi_, could stand for it.

So he watched.

And he waited.

It would be several days before Kenobi was actually brought to the stand. He would use his time well. Amidala was currently on the stand, the prosecution asking her about her brief conversation with Gunray before the invasion began. Amidala was surprisingly good, given her age; she either had a natural gift of had been trained very well. The proof would come when the defense cross examined her, but for now things were going well, and Dooku allowed himself to leave the trial. Interested though he was, he could watch the broadcasts of what he missed later. His more pressing business was with Kenobi.

The former Jedi was in meditation, as seemed to be his wont. Brows knitted together and frown pulling at his face, it was clear that the meditation was not going well. Dooku gave thought on giving the man time and space, it was polite after all, but the decision was forestalled when the redhead opened his eyes, blinking rapidly.

"... Master Dooku," he said slowly, his troubled face immediately smoothing out to a more guarded one. "I hardly suppose it is my turn yet."

"Quite the contrary," the Jedi said, sitting down across from Kenobi, "Amidala seems determined to keep them there for the rest of the trial, outlining Gunray's many sins in polite decorum. The defense cross-examination will prove to be most interesting."

"I see," Kenobi said softly, his gaze elsewhere. His weary exterior broke slightly, the frown again returning to his face, making him look thoughtful.

Dooku thought it best to press. "Is there something you feel the need to talk about?" Hopefully not some plebian worry over his Padawan, Dooku did not want to offer his ear for something trivial or inconsequential.

Blue eyes darted up to look at Dooku then back down, a hand coming up to rub his chin. "Have you been on Coruscant long?"

Dooku raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"I remember how often I was away as a Padawan with my master," he said, his voice softer, his face reminiscent for a moment. Dooku felt... something for the boy. "Master Yoda gave you high praise when he assigned you to us. I can only guess that you had to be pulled from a mission in order to take this one."

The Jedi master frowned, curious to see where this would lead. "I have been on Coruscant for the last two years. Active work is for the younger generation, now; my role these days is to pass on my expertise to those gifted enough to enter my care."

Kenobi nodded, still frowning. "Tell me, how has Coruscant felt?"

" 'Felt?' "

"In the Force. Has it changed?"

Now it was Dooku's turn to frown. This was a very different direction than any he had anticipated, and he was intrigued. "Has it changed for you?"

"No. Well, yes, but not in the Force," Kenobi said, again rubbing his face. "Every time I meditate..."

Dooku offered a platitude, curious how the boy would take it. "Emotion can often affect a meditation. One can presume that this is a stressful time for you."

"I had thought so at first, but..." He moved from his chin to his forehead, rubbing it and running his fingers through his hair. "I have a bad feeling. I know I should focus on the here and now, the Living Force is so much more important than the Unifying and yet even now I cannot stop feeling..."

Dooku frowned again, questioning Kenobi's wisdom in making such a confession to him. He remembered Kenobi's proclamation that he was still a Jedi, whatever the Council thought or did, and he still had profound respect for the Order, that much was obvious from his interactions with the Council and the claims he had made that he was still practicing his craft. Insight struck as he realized that Kenobi still felt like a Padawan, his Knighting had never sunk in, and he was seeking council on something he did not understand; something his master could no longer offer an ear to. Stars above, how desperate was he for help that he turned to an unknown Jedi for advice? It stirred something in Dooku, something that Qui-Gon had only been able to ignite. Dooku quickly schooled himself to the feeling, however. People close to him had the terrible habit of betraying him. Qui-Gon was perhaps the only exception, and now he was dead. Dooku would not let himself be close to Kenobi.

... But he _would_ help the boy. He had decided that much.

And so he asked the obvious: "What ever made you think the Living Force is so much more potent than the Unifying?"

Kenobi looked up and his eyes were haunted, remembering something in the distance. "The death of my master," he answered in flat tones. "I was so worried about the bad feelings I was having before, I could not see what was right in front of me. I cannot let that happen to me again, but I keep..." He shut down again, looking at Dooku as if realizing whom he was speaking to, and he straightened and became much more formal. "At any rate," he said politely, "I've taken up enough of your time; I'm certain you need to man the courtroom and make sure of her Majesty's safety. I do not wish to detain you further, and I'm sorry to bother you with unimportant matters."

Was that... humility? _Honest_ humility? It still existed in the galaxy?

Dooku stood to take his leave as Kenobi wished. But he couldn't quite stop himself from offering some parting words: "I can see why Qui-Gon thought you were a treasure."

* * *

**Author's Notes:** And now we introduce Dooku.

While we certainly never intended it, Dooku makes quite a niche for himself in this world; you can already see it a little in this chapter. It's a fascinating time of his life: he's still a Jedi and adheres to the Code, but he's jaded and desperate for change, making his meeting with the (Jedi-perceived) unorthodox Obi-Wan - his grandPadawan - and, well, you'll see. We've grown to really like his character in this fic. We've no idea how this will or won't change his destiny, but it was fun to play with him.

Chapter took forever, once again no inspiration, but we won't bore you.

Once again we're trying very hard not to make the Jedi the bad guys. They see things differently and Obi-Wan was given a choice. The Jedi still want Obi-Wan back in their Order and are sad to see him go, there's no malice, but Padme has a hard time seeing that. It's something you see from time to time in TV shows, when a parent or guardian makes the difficult decision to let a loved one stumble and fall so that they can learn. That's what Yoda sees this as. He can't interfere because it's not his place. He's let go, like a Jedi is supposed to. Not that Padme can understand that. ;)

And Obi-Wan, sensitive to the Unifying Force is finally back on Coruscant after a year and is already feeling a difference. Note that both Dooku and Qui-Gon are more sensitive to the Living Force. But were Qui-Gon seems to go Living Force or Bust, we imagine Dooku to have a more moderate view. He'll use the Unifying Force when necessary, but has a more easy time with the Living Force. So to see Obi-Wan, who's strength is the Unifying, putting down his own strength, prompts the question of why? And thus, Dooku gets a hint at what Qui-Gon's death is like.

But yeah. Things are going to be interesting with Dooku in the mix, ne? ^_^

**Next chapter:** A taxi.


	15. Chapter 15

**Part Fifteen**

A week later, Obi-Wan stood as Padme entered the witness waiting room. Dooku was standing off in a corner, and frankly Obi-Wan preferred it; the remark he had made earlier still bothered him, though he could not for the life of him understand why. He had absolutely no memory of Qui-Gon ever sharing the thought that Obi-Wan was a treasure; oh, he'd said on occasion that he was proud of his Padawan, and complimented him when the situation called for it, but Obi-Wan had never seen that level of affection. After he'd learned about (and fought with) Xanatos, Qui-Gon's former Padawan, he more than understood his master's reticence of showing affection. How Qui-Gon had managed to share such an intimate thought with Master Dooku, of all people, Obi-Wan couldn't figure out. That, and, he still wasn't sure how to react at all to the idea that his master thought him a "treasure."

Those thoughts quickly disappeared, however, when he saw the signs of deep irritation on the queen's heavily made up and impassive face.

"I sense you are not happy," he said with irony.

"I am not," she said, and even her level voice held and edge to it. "We will speak more in the apartment. I do not trust this building."

Obi-Wan nodded, flanking her as Panaka took her other side, Dooku bringing up the rear.

_It is growing._

_ It is clouding everything._

Obi-Wan shook his head; now was not the time to meditate on obscure messages from the Unifying Force. Later, at Padme's temporary apartments, he could try to sort out the dark feelings he was having. He still hadn't decided if mentioning them - even obliquely - to Master Dooku had been a bright idea. Frankly he'd been shocked that he even brought it up but, ultimately, he needed help interpreting the Force, and that was a Jedi's job. Pity he wasn't a Jedi anymore.

Obi-Wan quickly squelched _that_ circle of thought. He'd been down that road far too much recently. He was actually looking forward to going back to Naboo. At least the memories there were clear-cut; it seemed every time Obi-Wan turned around on Coruscant he was brought face to face with some memory that had once been happy but was now laced with pain and bitterness. Such emotions were not becoming of a Jedi, no matter what his status was, and he wanted to remove himself as quickly as possible.

_It is clouding everything._

Shaking his head again, he followed Padme into the airtaxi that would take them back. Witnesses were forbidden from speaking to each other about a case, and also from watching the HoloNet and seeing the trial. It prevented "passive tampering" with witness testimonial. Knowing this, he hoped that Padme could explain her frustration without openly discussing the case. Even under her white and red make up, her face was quite cross, and it was clear that her cross-examination had not gone well.

Padme and Panaka sat on one side of the tiny airtaxi cabin, Obi-Wan and Dooku on the other. They traveled in relative silence, Padme stewing over her mood while Panaka kept a watchful eye on the skies. Dooku's eyes were closed, likely in a semi-meditative state. Obi-Wan, however, found himself full of nervous energy. This was not the bad feeling he was having from the Unifying Force (though _that_ malady was still plaguing him, had _been_ plaguing him since his arrival on the planet), but something else. He was itching for a lightsaber, he wanted to _move_, and he couldn't understand why. This wasn't the garbled sense of the Unifying Force, it almost felt like that time he'd found the survivor...

Was this the Living Force?

"Something's going to happen!" he said, reaching forward without thought and grabbing Padme's wrist, yanking her to him so he could shield her, ignoring her startled squawk and reversing their positions; putting her on the seat and moving in front of her. Panaka already had his blaster out and was in the middle of standing up in the tiny cab when the droid driving it suddenly blew up.

Everything shook and rattled, his ears were bombarded with so many sounds he couldn't categorize them, Padme was pushing and pulling against him. Obi-Wan heard the distinctive snap-hiss of a lightsaber and the cabin filled with soft blue light. Dooku cut a hole through the roof of the taxi and climbed out, a bleeding Panaka close behind. Obi-Wan thrust Padme up, temporarily blind from the many skirts and layers she was wearing, before hoisting himself up as well. There was little room for everyone to hold onto the tiny hood of the vehicle, especially now that it was perforated, but a glance was all Obi-Wan needed.

He grabbed Padme again and rolled off the chasse. Padme shrieked in protest, but Obi-Wan had not spent all those years with his master without learning a few things. One of them was focus, and he threw himself into the Force with abandon, thinking only of the task at hand: stop falling.

Eyes heavily lidded, he listened to the Force as he angled himself for a controlled dive. It was difficult to hold himself level, but it became easier once Padme's initial panic subsided and she followed suit. A hand, his hand, shot out of it's own volition, grasping a cable of some kind. It resisted the kinetic energy Obi-Wan and Padme were generating with gravity, and the resistance started to slow their decent. It wouldn't be enough, the Force passed on, and so when the cabling hit the upper edges of it's tensile strength he let go, their momentum starting to build but he reached out again. They were falling parallel to a building and Obi-Wan tried to angle towards it. He didn't particularly want to clip it at terminal velocity, but that thought barely registered as the Force said _grab now!_ - and his fist wrapped around a vent pipe.

The thing snapped from its fastenings, swinging out and away from the building and bending, once more offering enough resistance to slow their descent as it ripped from more and more from the building.

Looking down, he saw a roof that they _might_ be able to land on. Holding as long as he dared, Obi-Wan risked a glance at Padme and saw that she had seen it, too. Letting go of the pipe just as it snapped in two, Padme and Obi-Wan both tried to aim their dive. Obi-Wan shot a hand out, palm up, and begged the Force that he be strong enough to cushion the fall. He still had Anakin to train, and he'd be _damned_ before he failed Qui-Gon yet again.

An old, familiar, blue-tinted face filled his vision.

_"You are strong and wise; and I am very proud of you._

_ "_Very_ proud of you."_

"... Master?"

The roof slammed into his feet, jolting Obi-Wan from his concentration of the Force. He tucked and rolled, Padme doing the same. The roof was sloped, enough to keep them rolling, but the friction of their bodies against the graded metal slowed them even further until something finally slammed against Obi-Wan's back - an exhaust pipe as big as a nerf, Padme soon crashing into him.

Panting, it took several breaths to orient himself. He realized belatedly his face was covered in cloth, one of the layers of Padme, no doubt. Adrenaline was still pumping through his system, and it made his motions jerky as he yanked it all aside and forced his dizzy body to get up. He stumbled on his feet and tried again, finally successful, as he scanned the area with his eyes and his senses.

Padme was at his back perhaps a minute or two later, a blaster from who-know-where fisted in her hands. "Sorry for my panic earlier," she said in quick, calm, but slightly too-loud tones.

"Perfectly natural reaction," Obi-Wan quipped, a little shocked that he had managed to be so flip. "I suppose the sky-diving was a pleasant distraction, but I'd much rather have a warning before hand."

"I know you said there might be assassins but I hardly thought-"

"On a trial this big and this public with a multi-planet conglomerate looking to save face?" Obi-Wan countered, "I'm rather surprised they waited this long."

"I've finished my testimony," Padme said, "They couldn't have been after me."

Obi-Wan nodded, his breathing finally coming under control. "I rather expect I've somehow become a key witness." Stars only knew why, but he was certain to find out. "We can't stay in one place. They've likely sent someone to check the efficiency of the work. We need to move."

Padme quickly hoisted her many layers, revealing a holster strapped to her shin, where she pulled out a second blaster, tossing it to him. Obi-Wan didn't want to guess where the first had come from. He caught the blaster, hesitating only for a moment. Blasters were so... uncivilized; but he was in no position to complain. Padme was already dashing across the roof to an access door, Obi-Wan quickly followed suit.

"Our first priority is to find Captain Panaka," Padme started to say.

"No, our first priority is to get somewhere safe," Obi-Wan countered. "Master Dooku will take care of Panaka, and he, too, will try to find a safe location. Once we are secure, we can contact the Jedi, and _then_ we can look for each other."

"But-" she started to say. Her makeup was smeared and half off, showing the contours of her emotion more clearly. Obi-Wan stared at her, and something on his face must have reached her because she backed down, unhappily. "I shall be guided by you in this, Master Jedi," she said. Obi-Wan nodded and they began the painfully long descent down the stairs.

It must have been two hours later when they reached the crash site. Obi-Wan had been following the trail of smoke in the most round about and circuitous route he could manage. He was not familiar with this area of Coruscant, but he had studied the planet's maps as a youngling and had a rough idea of where he was. The closest refuge would be the Judiciary building, but he dismissed that out of hand; more likely than not they would be further assaulted there. The best place would be the Temple, but on foot it was days away - even more given that he dared not take public transport and needed to be discrete. The temporary apartments they were staying at would also likely be watched, and Obi-Wan didn't know how thorough the bounty hunters that had been hired would be. He needed time to think, but, as was often the case on missions gone awry, there was hardly time.

Padme in that respect was blessedly level headed. He remembered the year he and his master had been sent to protect the future Duchess of Mandalore, it had taken that girl _weeks_ to learn when to be quiet. But, unlike Satine, Padme seemed to know there was a time to ask and a time to follow someone's lead.

Several levels above the crash, Obi-Wan and Padme looked out over a safety rail to witness the damage. The airtaxi had long since been removed, but Obi-Wan knew from the trail of damage that all that was left of it was slag.

Padme leaned into his personal space. "What are you looking for?" she whispered.

"Jedi," Obi-Wan answered. "I had hoped there would be one standing guard looking for survivors, but it seems as though everyone has left."

"Does that mean the bounty hunter or assassin has left? That we're in the clear?" Padme asked.

Obi-Wan looked at her, raising an eyebrow. "Do you want to take that chance?" he asked dryly.

Padme flushed in embarrassment. "No. Sorry."

Obi-Wan gave her a kinder look. "You've only been queen for just over a year, correct? And Naboo is a rather safe planet. That can often build a false sense of security."

Mollified, Padme reached up and started undoing her already half loose hair, brown curls tumbling about her shoulders and back. Her makeup had long since been wiped off. Once that was done she quickly started unfastening her dress, making Obi-Wan very quickly turn away in embarrassment. "Your Majesty, what are you _doing_?" he asked, unhappy how choked he sounded.

"We need to blend in," she said simply from behind him. "That would be easier once I strip away the advertisements that I'm a queen."

Now mollified himself, Obi-Wan rubbed his chin in thought. "Do you have a communicator, Your Majesty?"

"Padme, Obi-Wan; and yes, I do. I have a secure channel to Captain Panaka. He insisted, now I'm glad he did."

"How secure is it?" Obi-Wan asked, eyes darting around the upper levels. "How many and what type of encryptions does it use?"

"... I don't know. I didn't ask," Padme admitted. "It seems I have a lot to learn. It's safe now."

Turning, Obi-Wan no longer looked to Queen Amidala, but handmaiden Padme. The ground immediately surrounding her was littered with at least four different layers of clothing. Padme had stripped down to a simple off-white frock with a black vest or bodice - Obi-wan was not an expert - and under the skirt of the frock were practical boots. Her blaster hung at her belt, no doubt where it had first been stored. The clothing was a little too well made, she still stuck out, but it was no longer so painfully obvious and Obi-Wan could easily remedy the remainder; which he did by removing his Jedi cloak and handing it to her. She hesitated, looking at him oddly, before shrugging it on. It was too big for her, as he expected, but now the finery of her clothes were lost in the home-spun wool of his cloak.

Satisfied, Obi-Wan gestured and Padme quickly handed over the communicator. He paused for a moment, thinking about what he wanted to say before finally saying, "The Force is going home." He tucked the communicator onto his belt and started walking.

Padme quickly caught up, frowning, before asking, "What did that mean?"

"A precaution," he explained, blending into a crowd that was moving in the direction he wanted. "Captain Panaka is an excellent security officer, but we don't know how good the assassin is. I'd rather not advertise our intention on the off chance that he or she intercepts the signal. The bounty hunter would have to know the Jedi Code to interpret that. One of the Code's sutras is: 'There is no death, there is the Force'. Calling ourselves the 'Force' references that we are both all right. As for going home..."

"The Temple is the home of the Jedi Order, and could be considered the center of the Force's religion," Padme finished, catching on fast.

"Yes. Captain Panaka may not know what it means, but Master Dooku will, and he can take steps to make sure we are picked up."

Padme grinned slightly. "You seem to have the situation well in hand."

The praise embarrassed Obi-Wan, and he felt an instinctual need to deflect it. "Hardly, milady. I will not feel that we are 'well in hand' until we make contact. Life is infinitely more reassuring when one knows that one has backup."

Padme's grin only broadened. "Some day, Master Kenobi, you will realize just how capable you really are; and I want to be there to tell you 'I told you so'."

Their route was just as laboriously circuitous and roundabout as their route to the crash site. Not knowing how well equipped the assassin was, Obi-Wan kept to enormously large crowds, thin dark alleys and well away from any security cameras that he could see, not trusting how slice-free they would be. It was exhausting, being so alert to all the variables, but Obi-Wan had no time to be exhausted, and so he simply told himself he wasn't. Padme was depending on him, Anakin was waiting for him back on Naboo, and he still had a promise to fulfill for Qui-Gon. Thinking of his master brought the depression again; Obi-Wan was already reiterating the list of his numerous deficiencies but he shook his head, trying to shake it all off. Here and now, he reminded himself. He could not allow himself to dwell on the past when the present needed his immediate attention.

The sun was so low in the sky that the city's tall buildings cast enormous dark shadows.

_It is growing_.

Space, that didn't help his concentration. Taking a deep breath, he turned to Padme. She was winded after walking - damn near hiking - for so many hours, but her determined face had not changed one iota.

"We should start thinking about shelter," he said.

"I can keep going," she said, defensive.

"I know," Obi-Wan answered, "and I don't intend to stop immediately, but once the sun is down, the streets won't be safe. This isn't Theed."

Padme looked more than ready to make an argument, but finally capitulated. "Shouldn't Panaka have gotten help by now?" she asked instead.

"Not necessarily. We fell in two groups. We've determined that I am the target, but there were two people in that taxi dressed as Jedi. If the bounty hunter wasn't sure which was his target, he would have been forced to choose which of us to give case to. I dare say Master Dooku seems to have gotten the short end of the stick, given we've been generally unmolested up to know."

"Is that why you waited so long before trying to contact them?" she asked.

"Yes. A protracted battle in Coruscant would be extremely difficult to manage. Also, Master Dooku would have much experience at his disposal. I doubt it lasted more than twenty minutes, but there was also the time it would take to secure help. I'll be more worried if we don't hear from him by morning."

Then, as if right on cue, Padme's communicator crackled to life on Obi-Wan's belt. "Kenobi," the deep and resonant voice of Dooku said. "What's your current location?"

"Mid-level, I don't know the street, in an economic district. We passed a large square with a circular fountain some time ago where we could see right up to the sky."

"Very well, a transport will pick you up within half an hour and take you and Her Majesty back 'home'."

"Understood," Obi-Wan said, grinning, and at last, he allowed himself a sigh of relief.

* * *

The week Obi-Wan had spent en route to Coruscant had been even harder on Anakin that the week when Obi-Wan had been in jail. At least while his brother had been incarcerated, Anakin had been able to visit. But this was the first time, _really_ the first time, that Anakin had no contact with his new brother. The frustrating thing was that, despite Obi-Wan's many assurances, Anakin was still petrified that he wouldn't return. Coruscant was where the Jedi lived, it was home of the Temple that Obi-Wan shared so many stories of. Obi-Wan, as a witness for the trial, would be sequestered to prevent "passive tampering" and wouldn't be able to call.

It was enough to drive Anakin insane.

That first week, he'd ended up ignoring many teachers and earning detentions (_again_) because he was looking up anything he could find about the trial and the stream of testimony and evidence against Nute Gunray, in hopes that Obi-Wan would somehow be mentioned. Granted, he served those detentions, having already learned from Obi-Wan that skipping them was a _**bad**_ idea. Mrs. Hudson, who was staying with him while Obi-Wan was away, was very understanding and offered a sympathetic ear, as her granddaughter, now recuperated, had moved out of Theed to start anew.

Anakin had almost started going through another week of steady detentions when he stopped and really _looked_ at what he was doing.

He was skipping an education that he finally had the benefit of. Something neither Obi-Wan or Anakin himself approved of.

And after squirming through two periods of trying to figure out how to _stop_ looking up the trial, he'd stayed after his detention with two of his teachers and asked for help. He explained everything to them in terms they could understand. That this was the first time away from his brother and he was anxious about it. The teachers had nodded in understanding and together they started looking at what Anakin could do to _not_ be so distracted in class. (Mrs. Hudson had praised him and said Obi-Wan would have been so very proud. Anakin somehow sensed that was true and couldn't stop smiling and congratulating himself on his maturity for the rest of the day.)

After two days of failed methods, a strategy finally came together. He wasn't fond of it, but he finally had a vested interest in paying attention in class.

Simply put, he didn't have his datapad.

All his notes and classwork had to be done out by hand, with pencil and flimsy. The only time he was allowed his datapad during the day was during study hall and that was _after_ the teacher had checked to make sure all of his work was done.

This had been a boon for Anakin. Without a datapad, he couldn't access the HoloNet and start trolling the newsfeeds for Gunray's trial. Thus no distraction. It made his teachers get used to his sloppy handwriting. It ensured he got his work done in a timely manner, (since he had datapads at home that he always used) and without the HoloNet's distraction, all his answers were accurate and precise. He could still worry about Obi-Wan, but it was controlled and managed now.

Once Anakin finally _did_ have a datapad and HoloNet access, he poured over the various news sites, both galactic and Nabooan, trying to gauge how things were going and if that would affect how long Obi-Wan needed to stay to give his testimony. Going through the newsfeeds was difficult, since Anakin didn't know galactic law and it seemed one needed several degrees in slime to be able to follow all the rigmarole that was being sloshed around from both sides. In a study hall of frustration, he'd written a program to transcribe the various commentaries and proceedings he was seeing and then translating them to more simple Basic that scrolled along the bottom of his screen, just so that he could even get the _gist_ of what was going on.

And, much to Anakin's surprise, what he was seeing wasn't going well. Every time the prosecution set forth some sort of evidence against Gunray, it was almost immediately called into question and thrown out. Anakin couldn't believe this! He'd fought the Trade Federation, he'd heard the chatter in his cockpit, he _recognized_ the station in orbit over the planet that he blew up. There was no _question_ who did it, but evidence didn't seem to be allowed into the court. This just wasn't fair!

He'd expressed this in his diplomacy class and the teacher had led a long debate for the rest of the week about galactic law, how it affected diplomacy, the positions Naboo and the Trade Federation would be with the galaxy after this trial and how that would affect policies and standings.

When Padme took the stand, looking like the regal queen she was, Anakin would sit back, glad that someone could finally put the Trade Federation in their places. And, because it was Padme and he was going to marry her one day, he started working his schedule around her appearances in court. There was a time difference between the solar rotation of Coruscant and the city of Theed. So Anakin set his alarm to two a.m. and got up to start watching the trial. When the sun started rising in Theed, Mrs. Hudson would show up and usher him out so that he could do his forms and kata and meditation before sitting down for breakfast (she was an even _better_ cook than Obi-Wan!) and heading to school, turning his datapad over to his teachers after smiling and waving to Padme's image one last time before starting his classes. At lunch and during studies, he took his datapad back to review what he'd missed while in classes and catch up. Once the school day ended, the court session had long since recessed for the day, so Anakin went home, reviewed the trial, finished up any school work he still had, and went out looking for people who needed help before an early dinner, more meditation (he _wished_ Obi-Wan was home to help him with it) before turning in as early as possible.

It was chaotic and he was often tired through classes, but he managed. But, to Anakin's disappointment, (and that of the rest of Naboo who was watching the trial in earnest) Padme's testimony was shot to bits by the defense team after almost every sentence left her painted mouth.

It was infuriating.

As if being without Obi-Wan wasn't difficult enough, Anakin wanted to go and throttle the _koochoo_ who were countering Padme and mucking up the wheels of justice. But that was anger, so Anakin kept distracting himself with his helping in the afternoon.

It had been strange looking for people to help on Naboo. The planet was much, much richer than Tatooine and they didn't have issues with trying to stay cool like back in the desert. Still, Naboo was a planet that had been occupied and had fought. While there were several homes in Theed that were basically fine, many of Naboo's generous citizens were donating to help rebuild and repair neighbors who didn't have anything left after the invasion. They were willing to go without for those that had nothing.

But winter was in full swing in Theed and there were many classmates who complained about heating systems not really working but not enough money in the family to repair them. Anakin, in response, was going door-to-door all around his neighborhood and the market to see if anyone still had heating problems and if they'd let him look at it. For the skeptical, he told them it was practical applications practice for a class and they just smiled and let him in, taking the holounit he offered, saying that his teacher was to critique his work.

He wasn't even needing to use that ruse as much, as word seemed to be spreading that he was a good mechanic and would help free-of-charge. Some families even had him looking at other repairs their homes needed. He did what he could and offered advice on the rest.

A few people insisted on paying him for his services and, as much as he tried to deny the pay, there were some homes he just couldn't leave without taking credits. Anakin had thought long and hard about what to do with the money, especially when a few of the people he helped sent money to him via Mrs. Hudson. There was no denying that he and Obi-Wan could use the credits. Anakin knew Obi-Wan was planning to get lightsabers eventually, and Anakin wanted to purchase his mother's freedom. But now that he'd finally gotten around to helping people and feeling good about it again, it kinda felt wrong to take the money for something he did selflessly and use it for something selfish. He wanted to earn the money to pay for his mother, true, but not like this. He wasn't working to get money, he was trying to nurse a part of himself that he'd been neglecting.

It was through meditation (not that Anakin had a clue how the meditation had even ended up working) that the answer finally came to him. Ten percent of the credits he earned was kept, the rest he gave to charity. It felt like a very Jedi-ish thing to do and he had the distinct impression that Obi-Wan would be proud of him for this. It wasn't like the credits added up to a whole lot. He only had, at best, three or four hours a day to go out helping people, and some fixes could take that entire time.

The routine helped. And as the weeks dragged on as Padme gave her testimony, Anakin settled in and kept himself occupied. He didn't feel so lonely as a result.

Obi-Wan sent messages when he could. Being sequestered was simply awful as far as Anakin was concerned, but there wasn't a _kriffing_ thing he could do about it. Obi-Wan was clearly putting in the effort to reassure him and the least Anakin could do was to wait patiently.

Not that patience was ever a strong point of his, but he was _trying_. That had to count for something.

Anakin walked up to his study hall teacher, a notebook of flimsy with him to show all his work and accomplishments for the class. The teacher nodded, smiled gently, and gave him his datapad.

Kohse, as always, looked over his shoulder as he started skimming through what he'd missed in the trail for the day.

"Queen Amidala didn't do good today, did she," the now-seven-year-old asked, frowning.

"No," Anakin replied, scowling. This had been one of the worst days for Padme while she was on the stand. She conducted herself with grace and dignity, and finally left the stand regally, but the damage of the defense was done. Almost everything she said was struck from the record and the jury had been told to discount it.

It was wrong. Just _wrong_.

Commentators were starting to talk about the next witness the prosecutor would bring to the stand, a former-Jedi, and Anakin couldn't quite stop a small sigh of relief. Obi-Wan would give his statement, take down the defense litigators the same way he took down the litigators against the unions, and _finally_ come home.

Anakin had missed him and was looking forward to it.

A glance at the clock told him that the courts on Coruscant were now closed for the day and Anakin sat back with Kohse to quietly discuss the testimony for the day and how the trial was going.

For some reason, however, Anakin had difficulty concentrating on the discussion. There was something he needed to do but he wasn't sure what.

"Oh of course," he mumbled to himself. The Force wanted him to do something and it hadn't poked at him so badly since right after Obi-Wan had told him Qui-Gon was dead and the Force had pulled him to the conversation between that troll Yoda and Obi-Wan. Of course, that had also been his desperation to find something familiar in a wealthy and extravagant palace he wasn't entirely comfortable in, no matter how hard Padme and her handmaidens tried.

This was one of those times meditation would be _really_ helpful.

If Obi-Wan was there to explain how to even _get in_ to meditation.

So rather than the sit-and-concentrate method of Obi-Wan's that got faster results, Anakin used his I'm-in-a-Podracer method that he could at least do easily. "'Scuse me for a sec, Kohse."

"'Kay."

He closed his eyes, felt the Podracer around him, the shift of engines, the wind on his face, and the datapad came alive in his hand.

Of their own volition, Anakin's hand started to open windows and find what it was he needed. Things flew across the screen quickly as whatever Anakin needed to access put up some sort of resistance, either that or he was doing this the difficult way since, as Obi-Wan had once explained, this type of meditation was the equivalent of letting a krayt dragon loose in a glassware store. In short, chaotic and unfocused.

Finally, however, Anakin slid out of his meditation, uncertain how he did that or why. Now that he was back to himself, he looked at what he had dug up.

It was a traffic cam.

Really? The Force wanted him to look at a traffic cam? _Why_?

Except he recognized the skyline. It was a traffic cam on Coruscant. The sun was well on its way to evening there, meaning it was the same timezone as the courts.

Something cold trickled down Anakin's spine.

Seeing that he also had controls for the traffic cam in a separate window, he started zooming in to an airtaxi that had just caught his attention. Kohse was still looking curiously over his shoulder, but he ignored her as whatever and slid down his spine started gripping his heart.

Out of nowhere, a red blaster shot hit the airtaxi and both he and Kohse gasped. Loudly. The teacher was talking to them, but Anakin ignored it as he zoomed in further with the traffic cam.

"Queen Amidala!" Kohse gasped, as four passengers climbed onto the roof of the taxi.

"Obi-Wan!"

And both screamed as they watched Obi-Wan grab Padme and jump off the taxi before another shot blew it up.

Anakin was standing, shouting, "Obi-Wan! Obi-Wan! _Obi-Wan!_" Kohse had broken down into tears and the teacher was yelling something or other.

_Switch cameras! Switch cameras!_ Anakin jumped from one traffic cam to the next, following Obi-Wan and Padme's descent through the buildings, panicked and frightened and one tiny corner was amazed as Obi-Wan seemed completely in control as they were _falling to their deaths_.

Only they didn't die.

Obi-Wan had somehow saved them.

Anakin was crying, but he didn't pay any attention to the tears. He needed to contact Coruscant, the authorities, _someone_ to get help to Obi-Wan _right now_ because who knew where that blaster shot had come from and Obi-Wan _needed help_ and-

The datapad was pulled from his hand.

"Give that back!" he shouted in desperation. "I need that! I gotta _do_ something!"

"Mr. Skywalker! Miss Korden! You will explain yourselves this instant!"

"Queen Amidala was just shot at!" Kohse wailed, curled up in tears. "Our Queen! Our Queen!"

"What are you-"

"She's not dead!" Anakin yelled. "Obi-Wan just saved her but I gotta _do_ something! Call the security or something! That shot came from somewhere and they could still be in danger and I _need my datapad_ to follow where they're going so that I can give coordinates, so _give it back_! Give it back _right now_!"

"Calm yourself, Mr. Skywalker," the teacher said firmly. "What nonsense is this about Queen Amidala being attacked?"

Anakin, not thinking of how he did it, ripped his datapad away from the teacher with the Force and called up the traffic cams again. Tabbing between windows, he found the recording he somehow knew he was making and rewound to the beginning, before turning the screen to the teacher.

Needless to say, the teacher paled considerably.

"The Force wanted me to see this which means there must be something I can _do_, so get outta my way!" Anakin bulled through, heading for the door. He could get to the Royal Hanger within the hour if he ran, get passage somehow. It'd be a week of travel, but he had to be by Obi-Wan's side.

Because Obi-Wan was all he really had left. Him and Padme. And he _needed_ to be there for them. He couldn't just sit by and wait! He had to do something! Even if he was all alone here on Naboo, he had to _do_ something!

A pair of arms wrapped him around the waist, hoisting him into the air.

"_Echuta! Koochoo_, let me _down_, stang it!"

"That's _enough_, Mr. Skywalker," the teacher said firmly, despite a very shaky voice. "You and Miss Korden are coming with me."

"Let me go!" Anakin shouted, vile Huttese and Basic curses falling easily from his lips.

"B-b-but!" Kohse sobbed. "The _Queen_!"

"Don't make me carry you as well, Miss Korden. Come along."

Frankly, Anakin didn't care to be carried _any_where, _thank you_, and put up a tremendous struggle, twisting and pushing and pulling. The teacher meant well, he got that, but this was _not helping_. He needed to help his brother! Words to that affect were shouted and screamed as he refused to be carried along like a _baby_ because he had _work_ to do! He was shown that for a _reason_ and he had to be able to do _something_!

The teacher was strong, however, and didn't let go until they were in the guidance office. There, Verutine the vice principal and Kim the principal were waiting. Kohse was still sobbing uncontrollably. Kim immediately picked up Kohse and hugged her close. "There, there," she said in quiet soothing tones. "It's alright. Everything is all right."

"But the Queen!" Kohse wailed.

Anakin didn't have the patience for this. "Shut up, Kohse! I told you! Obi-Wan saved her!"

"But! But!"

"Aaaargh!" Anakin pulled his datapad back from the teacher, called up the recording and shoved it into Kohse's face. "See? Obi-Wan saved her! Pad-Queen Amidala is safe and alive! Now _shut up_ and help me figure out what to do!" Kohse calmed, but was still sniffing loudly which was grating on Anakin's ears at the moment.

Kim was pale, having now seen the recording from the beginning before she put on a calm face.

"That's quite the recording Anakin. Where did you get it?"

"I made it."

"And where did you get the footage for that," Verutine asked.

"I didn't, I recorded it from the traffic cams on Coruscant! Now can we call Coruscant and get security to arrest the bad guy who just tried to kill Pa-Queen Amidala?"

"And how is it that you have access to the traffic cams on Coruscant?" Verutine's voice was pure skepticism.

"He did a Force thing," Kohse sniffed quietly. "He does that sometimes."

"A 'Force thing'?" the principal asked.

"_Keepuna_! We don't have time for this!" Anakin shouted. "We gotta do something to help!"

"_Obi-Wan and the Queen are safe, Anakin. You can do nothing if you do not calm yourself. Remember what Obi-Wan has taught you._"

Anakin whirled around, shocked to have heard Qui-Gon and talking so directly to him. That wasn't a memory of a conversation that might have been. That was a straight-out reply to what had been going on. And behind him, Qui-Gon, the man that Anakin looked at as a father, stood serenely before giving a faint smile and fading away.

Anakin's knees buckled under him as the shock made him numb down to his very core.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** At last! Five seconds of inspiration! There was life in the fic!

And it was ACTION to boot, hopefully that made the readers happy, ne? We have Obi-Wan being a Jedi and Anakin following the Will of the Force - er well, sort of. His repercussions won't be fully realized until a certain conversation happens later. And Padme continues to be interesting whenever we write her. Is it wrong that it's easier to write her before she becomes the housewife?

Several of you were surprised to see Dooku. That makes us happy. :) He's at a fascinating time in his life where hi's still a Jedi, but he's progressively getting so disillusioned, he's fading from the Light.

Anyway, not much to say for this chapter.

**Next chapter:** A ghost and a call.


	16. Chapter 16

**Part Sixteen**

The nurse was soon called in after that as Anakin just lay on the floor, staring at nothing and not even Kohse could get him to respond. The adults were all worried, saying something about shock and low blood-pressure and rapid heartbeat, but Anakin wasn't really aware of any of that. He just curled into his own mind, trying to process everything that had happened in the short span of seven minutes. Someone had attacked Padme. Obi-Wan had saved her. Beyond that, he knew nothing about them. And locked in his own head, without being able to do anything, worry _thrived_. It raced, bounced, and drowned his mind, making focus on anything else difficult. Because a frightening possibility had just been presented to Anakin. Obi-Wan had proven, over and over again, that he was committed to Anakin, despite Anakin's lingering fears. And for all the fear that Obi-Wan would return to the Jedi rather than stay with a simple _slave_, Anakin was beginning to believe that it wouldn't actually happen. Obi-Wan would come back, like he said he would, and they'd go back to being a family.

It was like when Watto would send his mom out for supplies outside of Mos Espa. She would be gone for days at a time, depending on weather, the condition of the epoies they were using, and the caravan she was with. She would leave, but she always came back. Obi-Wan was the same. He left to work, he ended up in _jail_, but he always came back and smiled at seeing Anakin. It was proof that they were family even if Obi-Wan didn't seem to realize it yet.

But Anakin had never considered that Obi-Wan might be taken away. That Obi-Wan wouldn't want to leave him, but may not have a choice in the matter. His mother had always traveled on caravans that were too large for Tuskens to attack and Anakin had dealt with Tuskens on the racetrack, they didn't seem dangerous or scary when traveling at such high speeds.

Obi-Wan could have died.

He could have _died_.

Then Anakin really _would_ be alone because who on Naboo would take him? Padme was a _Queen_, she was busy and he didn't want her to look after him like a little brother. He wanted her to see him as a man. As the man she would marry. And that wouldn't happen if she took him in now. He _couldn't_ go back to his mother as a failure and Watto would somehow slip a chip into him once his back was turned. He _wouldn't_ be a slave anymore, not after seeing what freedom was really like.

_Obi-Wan! OBI-WAN!_

For just a moment, just one moment, Anakin wanted his brother there by his side to hug onto tightly and not let go. One moment of arms strong arms wrapped around him and a hand running through his hair. One moment of a pair of fingers on his forehead, somehow making it easier to just _think_. One moment. _Please!_ Just one moment? ...please?

But Obi-Wan wasn't on Naboo and Anakin wasn't on Coruscant. He wouldn't get that moment.

"_You have the potential, Anakin. You are the Chosen One. One day, you will wield the Force like no other Jedi has. But you aren't yet trained. You've barely begun. Give it time_."

Anakin turned his head, staring at the blue form of Qui-Gon glowing beyond the adults that were crowding around him, trying to talk to him.

"Mister Qui-Gon?"

"_Yes, Anakin. Though Obi-Wan has yet to believe that he really sees me, I am here._"

...

That made no sense. Because Qui-Gon was dead.

But Qui-Gon chuckled. "_Surely that Padawan of mine has mentioned this? There is no death-_"

"There is the Force."

"_Very good._" Qui-Gon positively beamed at him. "_Now you have some people who are very worried about you. Can you pull yourself together?_"

Anakin blinked back tears. "I want Obi-Wan," he whispered.

"_And right now, he just wants to be home with you as well._"

Anakin nodded. That meant the world to him. That even half a galaxy away, Obi-Wan wanted to be by Anakin's side as much as Anakin wanted to be by Obi-Wan's. But that didn't change something.

"Obi-Wan could die."

"_We will all die someday, Anakin. Nothing, not even the Force, can stop that._"

"But 'There is no death'."

"_Correct. His spirit would merely join mine. As yours will someday._"

"I don't understand."

Qui-Gon smiled. "_You don't have to. Not yet. Now, you have quite a few people causing a big fuss over you._"

"Obi-Wan says a Jedi is always self-sufficient."

"_And you've done a fine job of it so far while my old Padawan goes jumping out of airtaxis and sneaking through streets. He'll be fine, Anakin. Will you be?_"

Anakin blinked, really coming back to himself. The voices of the adults were chattering around him, asking him questions, on the comm. with a medcenter, trying to console Kohse who was in tears again.

He took a deep breath; the cold, icy feeling that had settled down his spine and gripped his heart now gone. He was still worried, but things weren't so overpowering. He was... calm. Something a Jedi should always be. One could still worry and be angry and sad and happy and whatever else, as long as it could be put aside to deal with what needed to be done.

Anakin looked around and focused. He had work to do.

He couldn't get out of a ride to the medcenter, but once Anakin was himself again, he started talking. The school's resource officer had come in and Anakin had showed him the video of the attack on Padme and Obi-Wan and said that this needed to be checked on. The officer was as skeptical as Verutine and Kim had been, and Anakin spent the next hour, including the ride to the medcenter, explaining and convincing them that what he showed them _had_ happened, thank you, and could you _now_ please make sure that everyone was alright?

Kohse stayed at the school, still upset and her mother was coming to pick her up. Anakin debated heavily on whether or not the media at large should be given the video, just to see if it could dig up information, but decided against it. He'd seen news commentators and they tended to report rumors more than actual facts. If Anakin wanted to make sure his brother and Padme were okay, he needed to talk to security officers.

So, when Mrs. Hudson came to pick him up, upset and worried to get the call that he was in a medcenter, he took a deep breath and prepared himself.

"We need to go to the Security Center," he said in the calmest voice he could muster.

"What? No, you're coming home with me to rest. Obi-Wan will be very worried about you."

"Well, _I'm_ very worried about _him_," Anakin said. "A lot happened today that nobody understands because nobody here is a Jedi but I _promise_ I know what I'm talking about. So I'm going to the Security Center; I know where it is from when Obi-Wan was in jail, so you don't have to come if you don't want to but I _am_ going."

Mrs. Hudson was very cross, but ultimately Anakin ignored her, walking out of the medcenter. It forced her to follow and that was fine with him as he marched down the streets. The woman settled down after several blocks, and Anakin slowed his pace so she could catch up. "I'm sorry," he mumbled, "but I need to do this and everybody seems to think I'm just playing around."

"At your age most kids do," the elderly woman supplied. "Most don't start acting like grown ups 'til they're about fourteen or so. Some manage it younger, but they have a way about them that we know. Her Majesty was like that; five minutes talking to her and you knew she was going to be an adult before she hit double digits they say. You, though, you don't act anything like what we'd expect. But I've seen you with young Obi-Wan, when you're training and working. You have the potential; I imagine you just need the opportunity."

... Was that what this was? An opportunity? Was the Force giving him an opportunity to prove himself? Was Qui-Gon? It was all still so jumbled; he didn't understand it and he wanted to understand it.

Still, he should at least be polite. "Thank you," he said to Mrs. Hudson, "Thank you for the opportunity."

The two walked in silence the rest of the way, and when Anakin stepped into the Security Center he marched right up to the woman on duty, her yellow uniform hidden by the leather surcoat. It was Mayuntha, Captain Panaka's sister-in-law, whom he'd gotten to know fairly well when Obi-Wan was in detention. She recognized him right away.

"Ani!" she said brightly. "What brings you here? Obi-Wan hasn't been arrested again, has he? I'd have heard of it."

Remembering Mayuntha's relation to Panaka and his role in the traffic cam recording he had on his datapad, Anakin squirmed a little, trying to figure out if this really was a good idea or not. Fidgeting, he said, "Obi-Wan's on Coruscant right now, but he's kinda the reason I'm here."

"Oh?"

Her bright, inviting face me him feel even worse for some reason, and in reaction to the emotion he threw his hands up n the air and plunged forward. "Okay, so I've been watching Nute Gunray's trial 'cause Obi-Wan's gonna testify and I wanna make sure everything goes okay for him. When I was on my datapad at school the Force was really poking at my head and so I tried to meditate to see what it wanted, only Obi-Wan does a much better job at it than me and I don't understand everything I did but when I was done I had somehow accessed the Coruscanti traffic cam network which made no sense to me at all until an airtaxi in one of the windows was blown up and - oh, here, look. I'm sorry if it upsets you."

His last sentence doubled her already confused and curious look, and she and Mrs. Hudson watched the different feeds Anakin had recorded. He winced as the women both gasped and stopped watching their reactions when the color completely drained from Mayuntha's dark face, instead staring at the toes of his boots and hoping this was the right decision. He had to do something, something deep inside of him was telling him to do something, and he had to listen to that voice. He worried that this was the right course of action or if he had somehow made things worse. He wondered what Obi-Wan would say to what he did, or Qui-Gon. He found himself looking around for the dead Jedi, not quite believing he was going to see him but not quite sure that he _wouldn't_ just randomly appear.

No one was there.

"Ani?"

Mayuntha's voice was as shaky as her complexion. Mrs. Hudson was in a seat, head in her hands as she rocked slightly back and forth.

"... I'm sorry," he said, guilt making his speech very quick. "It's just that nobody believes me when I say this happened and that I didn't make it up and I just want to make sure everyone's okay but nobody will check anything and I don't know where else to go and I figured somebody needed to know that this happened and I'd really like to know if Pa-the Queen and Obi-Wan and Captain Panaka are all right." He ran out of breath, finally, and just screeched to a stop, out of words. He looked down again.

Mayuntha, pale and looking chilled, gave a warm smile regardless. "I'll see what I can do."

Anakin soon assured himself that going to security was the right thing to do. No one believed Anakin, but people _did_ listen to an officer making inquiries, especially with forwarded video evidence given from an anonymous source. And that one of the people involved was Mayuntha's brother-in-law helped. Mayuntha was able to open doors Anakin didn't even have access to as she was referred to higher-ups and bounced from department to department as the security on Coruscant tried to figure out what was going on. This wasn't exactly _news_ to them, the division chief she was finally directed to had been getting updates on the case since it happened many hours previously, but the chief was confused (and concerned) on how Mayuntha came across the information. The security officer kept Anakin anonymous, talking of a concerned citizen leaving this in her inbox and her panic when she recognized her brother-in-law on the vid.

It still took several hours of redirecting to get that far, and despite his worry and concern, Anakin couldn't quite hold back his yawn. It was well past his bedtime in Theed, making it somewhere past midnight on Courscant. But Mayuntha's persistence paid off.

"_Your Queen and her entourage are spending the night at the Jedi Temple,_" the chief finally answered. "_The Jedi in charge of their security is mighty curious on how you got information so quickly. He wants to talk to you, is that fine by you?_"

"Of course," Mayuntha replied promptly.

The viewscreen flickered, and soon an elderly man's face filled half the screen.

"_Milady, I am Dooku. I understand that you are worried about what happened today._"

Any tiredness dropped right out of Anakin. He looked at the viewscreen, sharp-eyed and he couldn't entirely say why.

"Greetings, Master Jedi," Mayuntha greeted with a bow. "Thank you for your time."

"_I assure you, Queen Amidala and her companions are safe. I understand her chief of security is your brother-in-law?_"

"Yes. The vid we saw appeared to show him as injured." Mayuntha was every bit the professional, but there was no denying the trace of worry in her voice.

"_He is doing well. At worst, a bad cut on the head, easily fixed with bacta, and a concussion that a good night's sleep will fix. He will be well in the morning. Her Majesty wasn't injured at all and has displayed her natural compassion by staying by his side to ensure he doesn't strain himself._"

The dark security office let out a long sigh of relief. "I give you many thanks, Master Jedi."

Anakin burst in, unable to stand it any more.

"What about Obi-Wan?" he demanded. "I've been monitoring the traffic cams since the attack and after he landed on that rooftop I couldn't find him _anywhere_! Him or her Majesty both!"

"_Monitored?_" the division chief muttered.

Dooku turned his head to look at Anakin, a dark eyebrow raised. "_And you would be?_"

"His Padawan!"

Anakin wasn't sure why he didn't say brother, like he had been shouting from on high with pride to everyone on Naboo. The only reason he could think of was that this Dooku was Jedi and Obi-Wan said that Jedi didn't have families the way normal people did.

"_Ah, how interesting._"

Huttese was ready to drip from his lips in frustration at not getting an answer, but for the briefest of moments, Anakin thought he saw Qui-Gon out of the corner of his eyes and he bit down on his first reply.

If Obi-Wan wanted to train him to be a Jedi in all but name, then Anakin was going to prove to every Jedi he came across that Obi-Wan was a _good_ teacher. So he took a deep breath, swallowed the anger and said instead, "It is a Padawan's place to look after his Master, but I have much to learn. I couldn't accompany him this time, but I felt he was in danger."

"_Felt? You are on Naboo correct?_"

He nodded, not missing Dooku's deliberate lack of reaction. _Ha! That surprised you! See, Obi-Wan's a _brilliant_ teacher!_

"_And sliced into the traffic cams, I take it?_"

Anakin grimaced. "I'm uncertain how I did that, sir. But please, is Obi-Wan alright?"

"_I am fine, Anakin._" Obi-Wan walked up behind Dooku, a gentle smile on his face. "_Tired, perhaps, but that's to be expected._"

Anakn couldn't quite stop the scowl. "You're taking care of yourself, right? You're not staying up all night or not eating like you did with that negotiation, _right_?"

Obi-Wan gave a warm chuckle. "_I believe a more relevant question is what _you've_ been up to in my absence_."

That chuckle just made Anakin's spirit soar. He glanced at Mayuntha and Mrs. Hudson, but both nodded encouragingly to him and he happily turned and started recounting how things had been.

He didn't even notice Dooku watching them with great interest.

* * *

"Anakin, how many times have I told you that your 'podrace' meditation may seem easy, but actually uses up much more energy than necessary?"

"_I know, Obi-Wan, but I'm not good at your meditation yet. You make it look so easy and-_"

"I would hope so. I've been doing it since I was six years old. You will do it, Anakin, but you need time."

The boy frowned on the monitor, and Dooku continued to watch.

"_Did you _ever_ have a hard time?_"

"At times more than anyone else, it felt like. You have a natural talent, Anakin; you'll pick it up far faster that me. You've already made extraordinary progress. How has your meditation been going outside of today?"

And they continued to talk. Anakin struggled with meditation but he did it diligently; the katas were going well if only because he could sense when he took a misstep much easier because of how the Force flowed; he had started helping people in Theed with mechanics jobs and donating any credits he earned to charity - except, the boy added uncertainly, for a tiny fund he was saving up to free his mother; some boy named Horace wasn't bothering him much but kept looking at him funny; a girl had watched the video feed with him and he was going to check on her tomorrow; etc, etc, etc. Boring and humdrum, but Dooku still watched. Kenobi was much more relaxed talking with the boy; he smiled fondly and with bright eyes, chuckled slightly here and there. He... hardly looked like a Jedi.

And yet... he saw Kenobi a half dozen hours earlier since the attack moments before it occurred. The boy survived a fall from an airtaxi with a panicked passenger with no injury to either party and avoided further conflict for hours before he was picked up. There were few Jedi indeed who had that level of skill. He was simply fascinating.

Finally, the conversation ended, the two participants saying, "May the Force be with you," before signing off. Kenobi sighed, content for the first time, before turning around and seeing Dooku. His face immediately sobered, remembering who was with him, where he was. Dooku held the gaze, his face passive, before walking away to collect the tray he had been preparing. "The tea has gone cold," he said by way of explanation, the two had conversed for well over and hour.

"I'm sorry," Kenobi said, ever polite. "I make a poor guest, it seems."

"No, not at all," Dooku said, equally polite. "You remind me of..." he cut himself off, unwilling to reveal his connection to Qui-Gon just yet. That was a personal detail, and he had yet to decide if he wanted to be personal with Kenobi. There was still much to assess. So, instead, he replied, "... of a Padawan of mine. He often lost track of time."

Kenobi smiled softly, his eyes far away. "My master was like that, too. He always made us late for Council briefings, or get lost in conversation with a friend or someone he simply met on the street. He did not believe in chance meetings..." His voice trailed off, and his expression became pained.

The opening was painfully inviting, and it took everything in Dooku to resist asking about Qui-Gon. He did not want to reveal that bit of himself, and Kenobi would be suspicious besides. The Jedi could only imagine how Kenobi struggled with being back at the Temple, given his status and his circumstances. It was why he retired the boy to his private quarters as quickly as possible, even Queen Amidala could see the stress that was developing in the former Knight and was wise enough to give Kenobi space, choosing instead to sit with the injured security captain.

The conversation with the Padawan may have relaxed him, but apparently not enough as Kenobi continued to withdraw into himself. Even a year after the fact the mere mention of Qui-Gon elicited a visibly strong reaction in the boy; he had not gotten over the death. In this, at least, Dooku felt an intimate amount of empathy. He himself had yet to conclude his grieving process, though in comparison it appeared that Dooku was much father along than Kenobi.

Dooku did not wish to react to the boy, wanted instead to keep his distance, protect himself and at the same time give the boy much needed space.

It was why, days later when he reflected on what happened next, he would swear that his mouth decided on its own not to listen.

"Tell me about the child," he said, covering his surprise with a smile. Even _that_ was out of character for him, and for a moment he thought he saw Qui-Gon, standing at Kenobi's shoulder, beaming at him.

Kenobi stared at him, apparently also surprised by Dooku's sudden attempt at approachability, but the uncharacteristic smile seemed to work, and he leaned back.

"He... is unlike anything I've ever experienced," Kenobi answered.

Dooku's smile was a more deliberate with that. "Padawan's often are," he replied. "My first Padawan was quite the handful." Dooku frankly doubted _anyone_ had as difficult a time with a Padawan as he had with Qui-Gon.

"Anakin is, too," Kenobi said, relaxing slightly. "He doesn't have the experience of being raised here, and his perceptions on some things can be, well, rather different."

"Growing up outside the Temple isn't the only precursor to altered perceptions," Dooku said with the long-suffering sigh of experience. "People like that are destined to irritate everyone around them, to challenge every known convention, to press boundaries to their very limits. They can be inconsiderate to the extreme, act without thinking, and have no control over their impulses. And yet..." Dooku paused in his filibuster. He was no longer talking to Kenobi, his eyes were lost in their own memories, flashes of Qui-Gon in his Padawanship: the arguments, the glares, the missed meetings and chastisement from the Council, all the headaches and annoyances and grievances. And yet, through it all...

"And yet, people like that carry the very essence of the Living Force with them. Their very existence necessitates change and adaptation, preventing sloth and stagnation, and people that know them lead much fuller lives. Their deaths make us less, make the _galaxy_ less, and it is only fitting that their murders be brought to justice."

"... Master Dooku?"

And just like that the Jedi snapped out of his reverie, staring at Kenobi with inexplicably watery eyes and Dooku was forced to blink the moisture away. He had revealed entirely too much with that outburst, he was embarrassed that he had such an unguarded moment in front of someone - worse, in front of young Kenobi.

An yet, he could just picture Qui-Gon, smiling with pride, laughing and saying, "_That's my master for you!_" The mental image was too much for Dooku, and he broke every rule he had placed on himself with regards to Kenobi.

"How did he die?"

"... What?"

"My first Padawan: Qui-Gon Jinn. How did he die?"

Kenobi's eyes doubled in size, the shock hit him so fast he couldn't cover it. He struggled to reconcile what he learned but Dooku had lost his patience and his dignity and most of all he lost his need to be cautious; just once he wanted to be reckless like Qui-Gon, to jump in with both feet without thought of consequences and sink or swim by his instincts, and it fueled his carefully controlled desire to _know_ what happened, shattering his control and replacing it with determination.

"How did he die?" he asked again, force in his voice.

"I... he... the report must be in the archives."

"Don't avoid the question," Dooku all but spat emotion flooding him. "The Council has sealed the file, they don't want news of the return of the Sith to trickle into the ignorant masses of the Temple - the fools!" Dooku quickly slapped his mouth closed, fighting for control of himself - something he never had to worry about in the past. "How did he _die_?"

"I..."

"_How did he die?_"

* * *

**Author's Notes:** Chapter was a pain, blah, blah, took forever blah, blah, oh the self-pity and whining blah, blah, blah.

Dooku was interesting, though. He's still a Jedi but he's not perfectly Light at this point; he's frustrated and angry, and it's crept up on him quite out of nowhere. But then, given how obsessive he's been over Qui-Gon's death and constantly being in the presence of the only witness and then the witness being fascinating in his own right, well, his curiosity had to overcome him at some point. That Qui-Gon's at Obi's shoulder (or is he?) absolutely doesn't help. He always did bring out the worst in Dooku. Sort of.

**Next Chapter:** A conversation that leads full circle.


	17. Chapter 17

**Part Seventeen**

Obi-Wan was overwhelmed.

He hadn't slept in over twenty-four hours, hadn't eaten in almost ten, and had been blown up and on the run for over six. He was _at the Temple_, and his mind was flooded with memories: memories of Bant and Garen and Reeft and Siri, memories of _Qui-Gon_, bright and happy and bubbly but every single one tainted with another memory - that of Yoda giving him an ultimatum and watching that ship lift off into the skies and knowing that things would never be the same. He was staring at a Jedi he had been spending weeks with protecting Padme only to now realize that this was _Qui-Gon's master_, and _now_ he was towering over Obi-Wan demanding that he relive the worst memory in his life.

Obi-Wan was overwhelmed.

Strike that. He was _beyond_ overwhelmed.

Dooku was tall, standing at his full height directly in front of Obi-Wan's seated position, and his presence in the Force was swelling. The older man's arms were shaking, and his eyes were brighter than Obi-Wan had ever seen. There was a Darkness about him, tickling at every sense, and the former Jedi quailed inside of himself.

A large, strong hand clasped his shoulder. Startled even further, he looked to the shoulder to see nothing there.

"_Tell him, Obi-Wan. It will help him just as much as it will help you._"

And, somehow, his mouth opened.

"I... we... we had arrived at the hangar," he said, unhappy with how his voice sounded: nervous, cracked, emotional. He took a deep, shuddering breath and reached out to the Force, begging for calm. "Droids were there, as was... the creature. We... Master Qui-Gon had faced it before, on Tatooine. He had tracked us there via our receiving transmissions from the governing hostages on Naboo, and had attacked just as we were preparing to take off for Coruscant. I was already on the ship, and the pilot managed to angle it, making a dust storm to facilitate Qui-Gon's escape. He knew it was a Sith right off, I don't know how. I wasn't up close to it then, I didn't realize..." And in his mind, he quailed, if only he had realized sooner! But the reflection showed him there was no way for him to have gotten any closer than he could have. The realization seemed to soothe him, he didn't understand quite how, but it gave him the strength to continue.

"But, at the hangar, I knew right off," Obi-Wan continued. He dared to glance up and see that Dooku had reseated himself, sitting unnaturally straight, eyes riveted on something, perhaps a memory. "The Sith, it was so much darker than anything we had fought before - even Xanatos. I had always though Xanatos to be as Dark as they came, but that creature... it stank of the Darkside. We engaged it immediately, drawing it off from the Queen's contingent."

His voice trailed off for a moment, the memory overtaking him. Flashes of the fight, the grey walls that lead to the power core; it all replayed in his mind and, after a year of avoiding the thoughts and the triggers, he found he could watched it almost objectively. "It was a trap from the very beginning," he realized, his eyes widening in surprise. "He chose to meet us there, knew he was outnumbered and sought to pick a battlefield that would give him an advantage. He had already fought Qui-Gon, he had exposure to Form IV, he knew how to counter it." Obi-Wan sagged into the couch, suddenly exhausted. "It was a trap. Oh, _Master_."

The fight had been doomed from the start. The Sith had deliberately targeted Qui-Gon, set everything up for the Jedi's death.

"Everything he did was to draw out Qui-Gon. He led us from the hangar to the power generators. The catwalks were narrow, hampering maneuverability. We tried to catch him in a pincer, one in front and one behind, but the duel-lightsaber had a greater range than us, he could hold us back. We managed to make him fall off the catwalks, Qui-Gon was trying to press the advantage but I had fallen. If only-" he started to say, but Dooku cut him off.

"Exactly as the Sith wanted," the older man said, his face dark, his eyes unseeing. "When faced with a formidable team, distract the weaker element to target the stronger. You were considered weaker, negligible. Treachery!"

... Was that true? It was one thing to realize the entire battle was a trap, but even something as unforeseeable as Obi-Wan taking a kick and falling over had been part of the plan? If Obi-Wan hadn't fallen, hadn't suffered that kick, would there have been something else, some other means of dividing them? He... he had never considered it before. He had always thought it was his fault, a string of "if only's" that underscored his incompetence. Was it really possible...?

"_Keep talking, Obi-Wan_."

"We... the Sith had led us to a melting pit. There was this corridor filled with buffeted laser walls, to prevent debris from entering it. It activated while they were inside, I hadn't yet caught up. We were all forced to wait."

"Another bait for the Sith," Dook growled. A hand was gripping the arm of the sofa tightly, white knuckled, as he listened. "Another distraction to the negligible party."

"I was so worried," Obi-Wan said, staring at his memories. The two men sat opposite each other, but neither were looking at the other - indeed neither were entirely aware of the other, so lost in Obi-Wan's memories and the man that so centered around them. "The battle was taking far too long. Qui-Gon, he was a superb duelist but his endurance wasn't what it was; I could see how tired he was becoming. All I wanted to do was race through that corridor in order to help my master. The Sith, he just kept _smiling_ whenever he looked at me." Another bait at the negligible partner? It was entirely possible, now that Obi-Wan was thinking about it. He had never seen it quite this way before. "When the lasers abated I ran as fast as I could, but..."

"Just as the Sith wanted."

"Master Qui-Gon, he was forcing close quarters combat, to keep the Sith's range out of the equation. The creature didn't like that, that grin was finally off of his face. But... but..." Obi-Wan's voice wavered, his eyes watered, and his eyes burned with that one, horrific image. "He couldn't handle the fight alone. I wasn't there with him and his stamina had run out. I couldn't cover for him and he didn't have full range of motion on that narrow corridor. I wasn't there, _I wasn't there,_ and the Sith managed to clip his jaw and... and..."

And the red lightsaber suddenly erupted from Qui-Gon's back, smoke wafting out as it cauterized the wound, and then the crimson beam of light ejected back, Qui-Gon's body jerking at the motion, standing for a brief moment before the legs buckled, and his lightsaber tumbled away, and his body slumped to the side.

"He was so still," Obi-Wan whispered. "He's never been still for as long as I've known him. Even asleep he was prone to tossing and turning. He wasn't moving. His lightsaber was out of his hands. He was lying there so carelessly." He rubbed at a cheek, somehow distantly surprised that they weren't wet.

Finally, the former Jedi focused and locked his eyes on Dooku's still distant face. His next words were clear and honest: "I don't remember much after that."

Dooku snapped to attention, his reverie shattered. "What?"

"The laser buffers had deactivated as soon as Qui-Gon fell, and all I knew was that I had to defeat that beast. I was so angry: angry at the Sith for what he had done, angry at Qui-Gon for having fallen, must most of all I was so angry at myself for failing to prevent it that I couldn't think straight. I was too aggressive, too reckless, too thoughtless. I was fighting to undo all of my mistakes, wasn't in my right mind, and the Sith took advantage of it. My anger, it gave me the strength to split his double lightsaber, but it didn't give me the foresight to think he would have been prepared for that. He didn't even break stride as he ducked my next strike and kicked me into the melting pit."

Dooku leaned forward, his face intent. "You fought the Sith alone?" he demanded.

Obi-Wan offered a weak smile. "And poorly at that."

Dooku said nothing, leaning back in his seat and crossing a leg, an appraising look on his face.

"The creature," Obi-Wan continued, "I suppose it thought it was sport. He kept cutting into the pit, sending sparks and flecks of the rim raining down on me. I realized my anger had brought me to that point, and that I couldn't well afford to hold onto it. So I... I put it away."

"What?" Dooku said.

Obi-Wan shrugged. "I don't know how to explain it. I knew I wasn't winning with anger, so I simply decided I wasn't angry. I reached for the Force and was able to jump back from the rim of the pit. The Sith looked rather surprised, I don't know why, and that moment was all I needed." Obi-Wan tensed slightly, watching Dooku's face quickly became irate. He had an instinct to shrink into the couch, but Oib-Wan resisted the urge. Dooku had forced this conversation, and Obi-Wan, now that he had started, refused to run from it.

Reliving the memories now, in this way, no longer held fear over him. The former Jedi had at last accepted that these events had occurred - that he had failed his master, yes, but he could do nothing to change those painful events. The pain had not diminished, likely never would, but now Obi-Wan could look to the future, look to Anakin, and feel that it was the natural course of action instead of forcing himself to do so as an escape from reliving those terrible events. Perhaps now-

"You don't even realize it, do you?" Dooku said, his tone demanding but not, Obi-Wan sensed, at the former Jedi himself. Confused, he asked,

"I beg your pardon?"

"Have you any idea, any concept, how rare it is to just 'decide' not to be angry?" Dooku demanded.

That only confused Obi-Wan further. "Is it not the way of the Jedi to-"

But Dooku immediately cut him off. "Don't spout rhetoric now, boy. The Jedi strive to _avoid_ anger and, failing that; pile hundreds of relaxation techniques to release the anger. You've been about the galaxy, surely you've noticed by now how hard it is for anyone - even a Jedi - to let go of anger instantaneously. _Space_, I read your reports when that woman Tahl died. Even Qui-Gon admitted that his anger got the best of him, and he was your _master_."

Obi-Wan stared, uncomprehending.

Dooku kept talking, more to himself than anything else. "No wonder the Council knighted you. Four Trials in one go: Skill and Courage for beating the Sith, Flesh for loosing Qui-Gon, and Spirit for casting aside your anger to do what must be done. Such a rare gift! And the fools simply let you go! What were they thinking? Have they really fallen so far as to-"

Now Obi-Wan took his turn to interrupt. "Master Dooku, I'm flattered you think I have such potential, but at least in regards to my leaving I hardly gave them much choice."

Dooku refocused once more, and his face was completely calm, showing nothing as it had for weeks that he had been assigned to protect Obi-Wan and Padme. He was back to himself, it seemed, but the bright sense of interest could not be completely hidden. "All I know," Dooku said in calculated tones, "is that it was over training a youngling."

Obi-Wan looked down, thinking of his last memory of his master. "Qui-Gon... When we were on Tatooine, Qui-Gon found a boy. His midi-chlorian count was astronomical, but he was too old to be trained. Qui-Gon saw something in him, though, so he was brought back with us. The Council saw darkness in his future, we all did, but Qui-Gon was adamant that he be trained. He even," Obi-Wan paused, holding back a wince, "He even offered to take the boy on as his Padawan."

Dooku sniffed. "Typical, thoughtless, Qui-Gon."

Obi-Wan didn't have a response for that. "His last thoughts were of Anakin. He begged that I train him, and I said yes."

Dooku stared at him, but Obi-Wan was once again lost in his memories. "It... it was a false promise, in a way. I would have agreed to anything if it meant... It was after it was all over when I realized. I was giving my report to Her Majesty when Anakin came charging up. I took charge of him because I was supposed to; it was now my duty after all. He was so insistent on explaining the adventure he had just had. I dare say I was in no mood to listen, but I did because I was supposed to. And when I listened..." Obi-Wan looked up to the Jedi master. "He has such a strong connection to the Force it was astonishing. He had no idea what he was doing, literally no clue how to fly a ship, and yet he managed to fly through a dogfight into the Federation hanger and fire a shot through an exhaust duct that led to the power core of the ship - blowing it up and shutting down the entire droid army. The Force was with him to accomplish such an awesome feet, imagine what he could do with training! I saw then what Qui-Gon saw in him. I continue to see it, every day I'm with him. In the span of a year he's completely caught up with his traditional studies at his school and is half way level with any Initiate in the Temple his age. His work on kata is phenomenal even without a lightsaber, and he has his own meditation, he calls it the 'Podrace mediation' where he can sink completely into the Living Force and do remarkable things."

Obi-Wan suddenly stopped as he realized how prideful, how _attached_ he sounded in front of a _Jedi_. Flushing in spite of himself, he coughed and backpedaled to the point.

"The Council decided not to train him. I made a plea to Master Yoda." Obi-Wan paused, frowning, wanting to word this correctly. "He was, is, dead-set against training Anakin, and in some respects he is right. There is uncertainty in his future, I can still feel it even now, but I can't bring myself to abandon him to that darkness. It is... a difference of opinion. Master Yoda tried to convince me otherwise, he made a mutually exclusive selection of choices." Obi-Wan looked up and shrugged. "We can see what choice I made."

Dooku's eyes were closed, deep in thought. But his hands were balled into tightly clenched fists in his lap. "An ultimatum," he whispered. "Master Yoda gave an ultimatum to the most promising Knight in ages! And casts him out at the first sign of disagreeing with the Council!"

"Master Dooku, it was my decision. It's only a difference of opinion and-"

"A difference of opinion?" Dooku said, his eyes snapping open. "That boy manages to sense you are in danger all the way on Naboo and they choose to neglect that talent simply because he is too old? Because you are too attached?"

"Sir, there is good reason we don't take children over a certain age-"

"Not good enough," Dooku said in dark tones. "The two most powerful Knights in the making; cut away over nothing!"

"Master Dooku, I'm hardly all that powerful, if I was then Master Qui-Gon-"

"And he is just as bad as them," Dooku said. "I'm certain even now, one with the Force, he has no idea the damage he has caused you. Both of you. He was always so ignorant of his mistakes."

Abruptly, Dooku stood to his full height. The silence stretched out, Obi-Wan uncertain what to expect as he watched Dooku stare at nothing. He almost started to speak before Dooku looked down. "It is very late," he said in calm, calculated, distantly polite tones. "The spare bedroom is on the right, I suggest you use it. Do not feel the need to wait up, it seems I have a few communications to make."

With that, Dooku swept out of his own apartment, leaving Obi-Wan more confused about the man than ever before.

* * *

Dooku, unlike young Kenobi, did not have the Force-blessed ability to simply "decide" that he was no longer angry, and so after he left his apartments he spent several hours in one of the hundreds of meditation nooks of the Temple, standing and staring out a window blankly and _seething_ until the energy burned out of him.

He couldn't recall a busier day in recent memory. First was the attack on the air taxi, watching Kenobi and Amidala fall as they rolled off the roof of the taxi and unable to spare another thought as he fielded fire from some sniper that quickly disappeared when a dozen shots were perfectly deflected. Dooku could not pursue because of the security man's injury, and after that was several hours of waiting - either for confirmation of the pair's deaths or of them making contact in some way.

Now, on reflection, Dooku realized he had greatly underestimated Kenobi. The point had been made abundantly clear in the last hour. The Jedi was, in many respects, greatly embarrassed by his poor and decidedly uncharacteristic behavior. His curiosity over Qui-Gon had superseded his need for self-control and professional distance. It seemed his old Padawan had at last rubbed off on him: making him push and push until he received the desired effect. Reflection, however, showed that it was his selfish wants that had taken over, where Qui-Gon by contrast pushed because he thought there was a better way, or that some thread of the Force should be followed. In the end, invoking Qui-Gon's memory in justification for his actions was nothing more than for letting his impatience overwhelm him.

He was Jedi Master Dooku. He didn't _have_ impatience!

And yet as he stared out the window he understood that that sentiment was another arrogant attempt at sophistry, and he quickly corrected the thought. Everybody had limits to their patience and somewhere, somehow, it was always tested. Qui-Gon was perhaps the one person in the entire galaxy that could break past Dooku's limit, and it looked as though that were still true even in death. He sighed.

He would apologize later to Kenobi for his deplorable behavior.

The consequences of his actions, however, bore much more thorough inspection. For years, decades even, Dooku had seen and sensed decline. Political corruption was at an all time high, deliberation had dissolved to filibuster and special interest groups, and nothing changed. Dooku had spent over half his life under cover on assignment, he saw people consistently at their worst because there was no worry of a Jedi touting moral high ground rhetoric about. Dooku knew, perhaps better than anyone, how dark the world had become.

Something had to give. Something needed to _change_.

As Jedi, it was their duty to instigate change, to bring the galaxy back to the Light and yet over and over the Council ignored his pleas to take a more active role. "A Jedi can only help when requested," Mace said, "We cannot interfere with political affairs, it is not our place to force things to happen but rather to guide them by our example."

Only now did Dooku realize what kind of example they were setting. The Jedi had become complacent. They were just as corrupt as the politicians though they did not know it. Only the corrupt would so callously ignore Qui-Gon's irritating but always brilliant insight. Only the corrupt would disenfranchise young Kenobi for not doing as they said. Only the corrupt would turn a blind eye to the youngling so desperately in need of training simply because he was _too old_. Only the corrupt would be arrogant enough to think that _anyone_ would follow a high moral standard when there was an easier alternative.

Something had to happen. Something needed to _change_, and it appeared as though Dooku would be the one to do it. As he had told Kenobi, the Jedi master had many communications to make. The ultimate conversation, however, would have to wait. No, Dooku would not confront his old Master until he had all his points and rebuttals perfectly scripted. It was still the middle of the night as at any rate, and in that respect he knew what his first stop would be.

As he expected, Amidala was awake. The young teen put on a brave face, but her exhaustion when she and Kenobi were picked up had been obvious, and Dooku had deduced early on that she was the type to take catnaps when under stress, waking at night once or twice to puzzle through stressors. It appeared the Queen had just awoken; she was rubbing her eyes and stretching her back into a tight arc.

Dooku stood in the corner of Panaka's recovery room for several minutes to allow her to wake more, then, giving the impression he had been thee for hours, he asked, "How are you fairing?"

Her startled jump gave him some small measure of satisfaction. It soothed him to know he could control everything about and around him; and given his inconceivable behavior earlier, he needed to feel in control very deliberately.

"Master Dooku," she breathed, quickly regaining control of herself. "Forgive me."

"Quite all right my dear," he said in controlled, bland tones. "In fact it is you who must forgive me. I know it is quite late, but if it is alright with you I'd like to ask a few questions."

"Of course. What about?"

Dooku offered a smile that said many things. "I rather thought it would be obvious. On your first day here you made it very clear that if I had any questions about young Kenobi to come to you."

As expected, she became instantly weary, her face smoothing out and her back straightening imperceptibly. "You may ask anything you like, Master Dooku, but I must admit I was under the perception that you would forego me in favor of Knight Kenobi regardless of my input on the matter."

Shrewd. Though young, Amidala showed a very quick mind. Dooku rather liked her.

"You are correct, Your Majesty. In point of fact I have just had a very enlightening conversation with him."

Her eyes narrowed. "About what?"

"That, milady, is none of your business," Dooku replied condescendingly. "Suffice to say I learned quite a bit about him, and would like to know more." His tone was abrupt but necessary. Amidala was the type to be fiercely defensive of those she was loyal to. Approaching her in this manner, abrupt and arrogant, would raise her proverbial hackles and make her quick to sing ringing endorsements of Kenobi's character. The facts would be colored, but in her rush to prove something to Dooku she would let slip more than if she were thinking in respect to Kenobi's privacy. Anything after that could be confirmed by Dooku's impressive network of sources.

Glaring openly, Amidala bit out a barely polite, "Ask anything you want."

Dooku smiled. "Very well, we'll start with Kenobi's choice of profession..."

* * *

The sun was up before Dooku finally arrived at Yoda's apartments. After Amidala had filled in some blanks on what Kenobi had been doing since leaving the Order (and Dooku couldn't quite contain the amused smile at _how_ well informed she was), he'd visited the Archives and gone through all the mission reports of Qui-Gon and Kenobi again, only this time with a better grasp of Kenobi's character in mind.

Really. How had that boy slipped through the cracks? Not even taken as a Padawan until weeks shy of his thirteenth birthday, and only then because the Force had finally batted Qui-Gon over the head. Dooku couldn't help but wonder how many other younglings of such potential were being overlooked.

And young Skywalker! From what Dooku had pieced together from Kenobi's answers and Amidala's observations, that boy _belonged_ in the Temple. Had earned the right tenfold, no matter his background or attachment issues. To leave such a talented child simply because of _age_...

The Jedi seemed to have grown complacent.

This was unacceptable.

But that could all be looked at later. After the trial, when Dooku could stand in front of the High Council, give his report, and then take the Council to task for their negligence. Everything had a time and a place and Dooku needed to more research before giving the twelve "wisest beings in the galaxy" the proper dressing down they'd more than _earned_.

First thing's first.

For the moment, Dooku had one goal and one goal only. Ensure that Kenobi had resources. Not just whatever resources he had accumulated on Naboo, but resources for the training in the Force that young Skywalker would need and Kenobi as well, as he learned what was necessary as a Master: Access to the Archives, the ability to call in a proper Jedi healer if circumstances (unlikely as it currently seemed) required, manuals on how to train Force-Sensitives and what to expect; even something as simple as training sabers.

Dooku had been _appalled_ to learn that Kenobi didn't have any and had been starting Shii-Cho with just the movements. A blade needed to be felt, needed to be an extension of the arm. The only blade that they had was Qui-Gon's and Dooku, despite admitting to himself that such sentimentality was unbecoming and a weakness, understood why both Kenobi and young Skywalker would be hesitant to use it for mere practice.

He paused before Yoda's door, taking a moment to center himself. While as a Jedi, indeed as an _undercover_ Jedi, missions often required all-nighters and tests of endurance. Dooku didn't show any signs of fatigue, in fact, even masters wouldn't see any weariness, but that didn't change the fact that Dooku was starting to feel his age. Having just turned seventy-one, he was still spry and energetic and able. But the duration of that was starting to shorten.

Dooku wasn't particularly fond of getting old. But getting old proved his ability for he was still alive.

Another moment and Dooku knocked before entering Yoda's apartments.

The blinds were up, letting the morning sun soak the room in their warmth. Yoda sat at his usual, over-stuffed meditation cushion facing the rising sun and letting the light of a new day fill his existence, as had been his habit for centuries. One Dooku was familiar with and had become used to during his own Padawanship with the tiny master. A ritual he had passed on to Qui-Gon.

A small part of him wondered if Kenobi did this with young Skywalker.

He pushed the thought aside, and sat beside his old master. Closing his eyes, he let the warm sun soak into him, letting it's light join with the light of Force and basking in it's gentility. The moment of peace helped ease some of his tiredness, sharpening his already tight focus.

"A pleasant surprise, it is, to see you, my old Padawan."

"Master Yoda," Dooku opened his eyes and turned to face the tiny master.

Yoda smiled serenely. "This honor, to what do I owe?"

There was a tiny part of Dooku that wanted to smile in greeting and chat of old times, a part of him that was still a Padawan to such an ancient and wise pillar of the Jedi Order. But Dooku was nearly fifty years removed from being a Padawan. It was easy to put the feeling aside.

"I have been spending time with Knight Kenobi," he replied, calling Kenobi by the rank he had well and truly _earned_. Amidala was right to address him as such and Dooku would continue to do so.

Yoda's smile fell and the warm glow of his presence dropped under the weight of sorrow. "Yes. Suspected I did, that you would come to me." The tiny master looked out to the rising sun. "So sad, so sad. A promising Knight, Obi-Wan was. So very promising. Yes. Sad it is, that chose to walk away he did."

"He has not," Dooku replied, keeping himself calm and neutral. "That young Knight is a Jedi, through and through. He still trains, still meditates. He is a Jedi Knight."

Yoda shook his head. "A Knight, no longer. A choice it was, to stay or go. Left us, Obi-Wan has, and by choice."

"By ultimatum," Dooku corrected. "It was _your_ choice to give him only two options. To be a Jedi or not." He raised a dark brow. "Have you not often said that only the Sith deal in absolutes? Why, then, give Knight Kenobi two absolute choices, to be a Jedi or not?"

Yoda shook his head again. "A Jedi or not, were not the options presented. You were not there."

"No I was not. If I were I would have told you that that it was foolishness to present an ultimatum to a grieving Padawan just promoted to Knight because of his _Master's_ death. That it was foolishness to take a grieving Padawan to task for attachment after just losing the _one_ attachment that all Jedi are _allowed_ to have. It was foolishness to send a youngling with so much potential back to obscurity. Absolute foolishness to deny training to one who so desperately _needs_ it simply because he is too old. No, I was not _there_. And more is the pity that I was not."

Yoda looked down sadly. "A strong belief, you have in what was to be done. A strong belief I had, in what was to be done. There, you were not and undone, the past can never be. Accept. Accept what is and move forward. The Jedi way this is."

Dooku bristled at that, chaffing that he was _not_ a Padawan any more and did not need the lecture. But Yoda was right. He had deviated from his main point. He could not make the Council take Kenobi and young Skywalker back. Indeed, that might not be the best of ideas, given the damage already done by turning their backs. But Dooku had resolved to ensure that Kenobi had aide. While he himself could not always be there, especially given how often he went undercover, he _would_ ensure that others would be there if Kenobi needed it. Even Qui-Gon, the maverick that he was, had support, even when on solo missions. The Jedi were always there for one another. To not be was simply reprehensible.

If he could not ensure assistance through the fact that Kenobi was clearly a Knight and with a Padawan, than he simply had to try a different approach.

"Regardless of Knight Kenobi's status here, he is training young Skywalker."

"Know this, I do," Yoda replied, rubbing his thinning hair. "His reason, it was, to leave the Jedi."

Dooku nodded. "I have spoken with him in his training methods. I imagine the techniques he is using are the same Qui-Gon used with him."

"Unsurprising, this is." Yoda looked out to the sun again.

"Knight Kenobi has none of the material usually presented to a new master. Indeed, most Knights thinking of taking a Padawan will take a class on teaching techniques and what to look out for and such. Even Knights who bond spontaneously through the Force, as Qui-Gon and Knight Kenobi did, are given materials to help the process."

Yoda looked down again. "Considered this at length, we did. Meditated on this, we all did, when back at the Temple."

Dooku frowned, having not expected that. "Yet you decided to not even send the basics."

Closing his eyes, Yoda shook his head. "So simple, it was not. Clouded the Force was. Unclear. For millennium, guided us clearly the Force has, yet for this boy, Skywalker, shrouded is the Force. Murky. Darkness there is, for that youngling." The tiny master pinned Dooku with his saddened eyes. "Give Jedi techniques, would you, to a youngling hidden by the Darkside?"

His lips thinned. For all that Dooku could do bold and brilliant moves that made him such an exemplary Jedi, he did so after cautious deliberation and information gathering. Qui-Gon may have picked up on being bold and brilliant, but he didn't plan. He simply went with the flow of events. Dooku's caution had never rubbed off. And Dooku _was_ known for his caution.

Presented as Yoda just did, Dooku would never have wanted young Skywalker trained.

But it had not been presented to him as such. Indeed, it hadn't been presented at all and such a view did not take into account all of the facts.

"Have you so little faith in your own Jedi that they can not guide and steer a youngling away from Darkness?" Dooku countered. "How many younglings have we had that suffer from anger and frustration? And how many of them have ended up as steady, reliable Knights and Masters?"

Yoda's brows dropped. "Younglings of anger? Of Xanatos do you speak?"

Dooku's brows dropped as well. Of course the tiny master would mention Xanatos. The youngling that even Dooku had warned Qui-Gon about, if only Qui-Gon would have _listened_. The boy had been too old to bring to the Jedi, despite his talent, yet Qui-Gon had insisted. Young Skywalker was older still.

"It was obvious to the Council and myself, that Xanotos was far too aggressive and barely within bounds in many of his missions," Dooku replied coolly. "Have you even seen a _hint_ of that with young Skywalker? At this very moment he wanders around Theed helping its citizens free of charge with fixing their heating or any other odd jobs. Xanatos would never lower himself to the peons."

"Yet the Darkness remains, obscuring the child's future, the potential." Yoda looked sadly out to the morning sun.

Dooku narrowed his eyes. "And you would leave a youngling to fend for himself?"

"To right every wrong, enough Jedi there are not."

"So we let a talented child who is inclined to the Light slip through the cracks." Dooku looked to the morning sun as well, trying to steady the raging injustice at that. "Tell me, Master Yoda, when the Jedi started to act out of fear? Fear of what _could_ happen? Is not the future always in motion?"

Yoda smiled at Dooku fondly. "Ever stubborn, you are, my old Padawan. Challenge me often you did and still do. Such concern, such concern for a few, yet not all." Yoda stood and walked over to where a pot of tea was quietly steaming. "Breakfast, you have not had, if your old routines you've maintained. Come, come. Sustenance you need for another day at trial."

Irritation surged, but Dooku released it to the Force with well-practiced ease. "Master Yoda, you seem to be ignoring a significant problem. You are denying education and training to a highly talented boy who remains Light _despite_ the Darkness that enshrouds him or even helping a Jedi Knight who left only because he did what he felt was right, as he was _trained_ to do. Since _when_ do Jedi act out of fear of a possible future?"

Yoda patiently poured out the tea and gave it a moment to steep before bringing the cups over. Dooku took the offered cup out of years of habit and sipped it, somewhat surprised that Yoda remembered the blend he preferred and even had it on hand.

The tiny master took his seat and sipped his own cup, eyes closed in contentment. When he opened them, he continued. "Since when out of attachment have you acted?"

"I beg your pardon."

"Hidden well it was, but deep attachment you had with Qui-Gon," Yoda replied. "Managed well, you did. Surprising it is not. Unfortunate you have been that so many you trust betrayed you. Qui-Gon did not, and so deep attachment you created. Understandable." Yoda took another sip of his tea. "Yet known Qui-Gon for years you did. Years. From youngling to an adult. Known Obi-Wan you have for mere weeks. Young Skywalker, you have yet to meet. Yet here you sit, on their behalf, negotiating."

Dooku looked down to his tea, not expecting such reproach, nor to be told that he even bore attachments. Dooku, of all people, knew attachment was dangerous and foolish, given that whoever one trusted would eventually betray one. Lorian Nod was the very first in a long list of examples, a fellow initiate and friend of Dooku decades past who framed Dooku for a theft from the Temple Archives. Dooku could recite chapter and verse why attachments were forbidden and damaging to a Jedi. He had tried to teach this to Qui-Gon, but his Padawan was far more trusting. Something Dooku couldn't begrudge if only because he was glad that Qui-Gon had never had to suffer the pain of betrayal. Xanatos had changed that in Qui-Gon and Dooku had privately mourned how his old Padawan had shut down.

Yet, looking back on his life, Dooku could not deny the favor he had of Qui-Gon, despite his old Padawan's obvious flaws and the frustration Qui-Gon was quite apt at generating. But Dooku never acted on that favor. Therefore, it must not have been attachment.

Dooku being attached to Qui-Gon was debatable.

Dooku being attached to Kenobi or Skywalker, however, was absurd. He barely knew them.

But they both had potential. And Qui-Gon would _not_ have wanted them abandoned. Someone had to do something.

"I sit here on their behalf because it seems no Jedi has before," he replied after another sip of tea. "Did any of the Council argue for helping Kenobi? For _not_ throwing him out of the Order? Did any of Kenobi's friends even have enough information to _start_ acting on their behalf? I think not." Dooku allowed himself a small smile. "As such, I will do what I must."

Yoda frowned, but lowered his head in sadness. "Then an end, this discussion has reached."

Dooku sipped his tea one last time before putting it aside. "I believe you are correct, Master Yoda." For if the Council and the Jedi would do nothing Dooku _would_.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** And we hit full circle. As Anakin explained his adventure to Obi-Wan, Obi-Wan explained his loss to Dooku. As Obi-Wan was surprised by Ani's potential, Dooku was surprised by Obi's potential. And things continue to shift for Dooku and his character. He hijacked the chapter in a way, but it's necessary to understand his headspace for the epilogue and, back when this fic was two parts, it was the foundation for his role in the second (now abandoned) half.

Having said that, cue the "this chapter took forever" wail.

But at least Obi-Wan has finally gone through the final stages of the grieving process. Thanks Dooku!

**Next chapter:** A cross-exam.


	18. Chapter 18

**Part Eighteen**

"And so you landed at the space station."

"Yes."

"The same station that was later blown up during the Battle of Naboo?"

"Yes."

"How can you be sure?"

It took everything in Obi-Wan to withhold his sigh and remain perfectly calm on his exterior.

"Objection. Relevance?" the prosecutor asked.

"Sustained, get to the point, Master Litigator," the judge said.

"Of course," the defense said, offering an oily placating smile. "Mister Kenobi," he said, once more addressing Obi-Wan. "You and your master landed at _a_ space station, to be sure, but you and your entourage were away from Naboo for four weeks before your return. That is a lot of time."

Obi-Wan put on a light, vaguely ironic smile. "Master Litigator," he said in calm, confident tones, "If you take the time to consider the probability of a space station swooping in to overthrow Naboo and then just slipping way _without_ any of the sector's other stations and scanners noticing and another of the exact make, model, armament, markings and objective slipping into the exactly same position in orbit - again with no other sector noticing, it makes for a _very_ long shot, and I would question your capacity as a gambler."

There was a murmured chuckling amongst the assembled observers. Obi-Wan flushed at the reaction, there were few people indeed that laughed at his wit, but it gave him much-needed confidence at the same time. He was still in control of the cross-examination, and he felt better for it.

He understood in the span of five minutes the attack plan of the defense. Padme had tried several times to drop hints, saying that they had a plan and it was disgusting. Obi-Wan rather thought it was the only option they had: Throw doubt on the testimony of the key witnesses, in this case, Padme and Obi-Wan. Obi-wan feared the result of Padme's testimony, she was good, _very good_, but she did not yet have the experience, the age, to temper her... temper. It was easy to see that the defense most likely had beleaguered the point of Nute Gunray's transmission to her, demanding to know how she knew it was Gunray and not some avatar, how she knew he was _really_ up there on that space station. The loss of Sio Bibble and the other governing parties of Naboo as witnesses was perhaps the worst blow to the case that could have been made. Obi-Wan would have been curious how the defense could have spun _that_. Now, with him, they were trying every trick in the book to make him doubt, throw suspicion on his testimonial.

Well, they could try.

_It will be everywhere_.

Obi-Wan put the feeling out of his mind: here and now. He would not let it bother him.

He saw Dooku at the back of the circular room, the shadows unable to hide his white hair. Obi-Wan saw he was exactly one hundred eighty degrees from Mace and Yoda, the furthest possible distance to be and still be in the same room. It had been several weeks since the assassination attempt, since that night when Obi-Wan had relived the death of his master, since the report to the Council - his last report, he realized with sadness. Dooku had said nothing since the affair, acted as though nothing was different, that nothing had changed. But something had, and Obi-Wan could not tell what save that it had to do with the Council.

Frankly he wasn't sure what he felt about Dooku yet. He was Master Qui-Gon's master, yet he kept that very intimate tie between them secret. Then, too, there was his anger that night. Obi-Wan had felt darkness there, whether from Dooku himself or from the constant prickling from the Unifying Force since arrival on Coruscant he wasn't sure. He decided to step around the man very carefully. In that respect he was glad he was finally on the stand. It made for an excellent distraction.

"Very well," the defense said. Obi-Wan could sense the Rhodian's irritation, but the litigator was well trained and did not let it affect him. Pity. "Your testimony states that the conference room where you waited to negotiate was filled with nerve gas. Tell me, how did you survive that?"

"I held my breath," Obi-wan answered. "My training allowed for both my master and myself to hold our breath for several minutes, indeed, hours at a time. When it was assumed we were dead, the door opened for the Battle Droids to confirm our destruction. We defended ourselves and began searching the station."

The defense litigator smiled slightly. "You're very confident in all those assumptions. First that there was malicious intent, second that these alleged perpetrators were ruthless enough to wait until you were dead, third that droids were sent to finish you off."

Obi-Wan cocked his head to the side. "Was there some other way to interpret the nerve gas and armed battle droids?" he asked, eliciting another round of laughter from the observers. Was he really that funny?

"Who attacked first?" the litigator asked.

What kind of question was that? "Given that our transport was blown up and we were assaulted with nerve gas, I should think the answer obvious."

"A simple 'us' or 'them' will do."

"Very well. 'Them'."

"Now that's very interesting," the litigator said. "I have two mechanical reports here, filed by that space station, that listed both 'attacks' were the result of unfortunate mechanical errors. Now, with that in mind, that leaves the supposed battle droids - which for all we know may have been Protocol droids."

"Objection. Relevance?"

"Sustained. Is there a question in there, Master Litigator?"

"Just this: ignoring all other previous input, looking solely at that moment in time when the conference door opened, who attacked first: you or them?

Obi-Wan frowned, casting his memory back. That was such a minor detail, why was the defense bothering with it? He was obviously trying to maneuver the questioning into making Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon the aggressors, ludicrous at best but easily shot down. The last three days of his testimony had proven to the defense that Obi-Wan would not be easily wrangled. There was a secondary point in this question, one Obi-Wan couldn't see. What kind of trap it led to, he could not predict.

Mentally, Obi-Wan could only shrug. He would spring the trap and see what happened.

"From that very parochial point of view, we did."

"I see. Blasters, I suppose?"

"Pardon?"

"Your weapon of choice. Was it blasters?"

"No."

"Then what weapon did you use?"

"Lightsabers."

"Ah! You're a Jedi then."

Obi-Wan refused to react, refused to let his brow twitch or his jaw tighten or his lips purse. He put all of his focus on his neutral face and answered, "Yes."

The litigator's oily smile appeared, an excited glint in his eyes. This was the trap, then, and Obi-Wan dreaded where this was going. He had expected it since Padme had suggested it on the transport here; he had planned for it as best he could, but that didn't mean he was going to like this any less.

"I want to make sure I understand this," the litigator said, "You were a Jedi at the time of the Battle of Naboo."

"Yes."

"Are you one now?"

"Objection!" the prosecution said. "Relevance? Again?"

The defense was quick to counter: "Goes to the credibility of the witness."

The judge narrowed his eyes, taking almost a minute to ponder before saying, "I'll allow it, but know that you are walking on _very_ thin ice, Master Litigator."

"Thank you." The Rhodian turned back to Obi-Wan. "Are you a Jedi now?"

The jaw did clench then, he couldn't help it, but he relaxed his muscles with ease and focused on his neutral face. "That depends on one's point of view."

"Yes or no, Mister Kenobi."

"Then yes, I am still a Jedi," Obi-Wan answered.

"Really?" the defense asked, a theatrical note of shock in his voice.

Obi-Wan already has his answer ready. "The Jedi is a way of life. Republic record states it has religious structures, mediations, and ceremonies. It is a school of thought and method of study - of the Force in particular of course, but there are other classes and departments of learning. By that point of view I am a Jedi and will be all my life."

The defense nodded, theatric understanding. But his next question was in cold tones and greedy eyes. "Allow me to rephrase the question then: Are you, at this moment, a member of the Jedi Order?"

Padme, apparently in the audience, stood straight up and glared. Some looked to her but it was not a true interruption. Obi-Wan held her gaze for a moment before answering the question honestly. Painfully. "I don't know."

Murmuring erupted in the entire room. Padme could not possibly glare any harder; Dooku had stepped forward, the gesture saying something about his thoughts. Mace and Yoda watched impassively, as always. The judge took several minutes to calm the room back to order. Obi-Wan could almost hear Anakin, watching the feed, cursing in Huttese and shouting epitaphs to the defense. When quiet had once again finally settled about the room, the defense litigator continued his stage acting. The Rhodian looked shocked, eyes wide.

"Mister Kenobi, how can you _not_ know?" he asked.

This was the part Obi-Wan dreaded. Shredding his character was one thing, but he did not, under any circumstances, want to drag Anakin's name into this mess. He allowed himself pride over the fact that his face had yet to change composition. His hands were clenched into tight fists, but his voluminous sleeves hid the sign of stress.

"Shortly after I was Knighted, one of the Council members and I had a difference of opinion. We all did what we felt was right, and for me that meant changing my location to do what I must. I do not know how this decision has affected my status."

The defense frowned in thought, as if trying to take it in, before saying, "Well, then, tell me. When were you Knighted?"

"Objection!" the prosecution said. "Master Kenobi is not the one on trial here and I have yet to see relevance!"

"Sustained," the judge said. "Master Litigator, I've had enough."

"Then allow me to get to the point," the defense said, "You, _Mister_ Kenobi, can be found in a simple search as one of the Jedi's Lost Twenty, a moderately famous list of Jedi that turned their backs on the Order and are scorned by the most reputable organization in the galaxy. You left just after your Knighting, you say, but you failed to mention that you were Knighted right after the Battle of Naboo - meaning something happened there, that the Jedi could not abide. Tell us, was it because you did something illegal? Planted evidence against the defendant, perhaps? You live on Naboo now, don't you? So you must be just as biased as them and-"

"_Objection!_" the prosecution all but shrieked.

"Order, order!" the judge was saying.

Everyone was talking and pointing. Padme's face was flushed even under her heavy make-up, and Dooku was nearly halfway down the aisle. Obi-Wan counted to ten in a few languages, waiting. And then, to the shock of the defense, he answered. "Yes, I was Knighted for my efforts during the Battle of Naboo. Yes, my disagreement happened shortly thereafter, but it had nothing to do with your ludicrous accusation about planting evidence. The disagreement was over a personal matter that has no bearing on this trial. Yes, I currently live on Naboo, because at the time I had no finances to move elsewhere. No, I am not biased against your client. You forget that I am a Jedi, regardless of my standing in the Order, and I am trained to have an unbiased opinion."

He waited a breath and then continued: "Perhaps, Master Litigator, it is time we got to the point that the prosecution has been waiting so patiently for: You are attempting to discredit me because of my status in the Jedi Order and throw doubt on my entire testimony. You made a good effort, I dare say, but the fact of the matter is that I have decades of training in the way of the Jedi and my training has been more than substantiated over the course of my testimony. Feel free to cast doubt on my status and even my character, but you cannot cast doubt on my training."

"I was trained by the very best Masers in the Order and that includes Master Yoda and Master Qui-Gon Jinn, who died in the Battle of Naboo. Frankly you are hard pressed to cast doubt on either of them and their training reflects directly on me. So in light of that, I can say in confidence that my master and I _were_ attacked on that space station; we _did_ search the station for Viceroy Gunray; we _did_ defend ourselves as necessary; and we _did_ see Viceroy Gunray at the control center of the station before he sealed himself in. And, since it has been thoroughly confirmed that the space station was the one that blockaded Naboo and provided the battle droids in the following war, you, Master Litigator, do not have a leg to stand on."

That was when the explosion happened.

* * *

"Anakin? Are you up dearie?"

"Of course, Mrs. Hudson!" Anakin replied. He had been up since 2 a.m. to watch the trials. If he was obsessive over Padme's testimony, he was just as bad - maybe even worse - for Obi-Wan's. Every day covered meant one day sooner to his return, and frankly Anakin was getting tired of waiting. He had just finished his morning routines, the advice Obi-Wan had given him weeks ago having helped. Meditation was still a problem, but Anakin stubbornly refused to give up. Throwing the last of his books into his pack he opened the apartment door where Mrs. Hudson was waiting.

He helped his slightly stooped landlord in and escorted her to the kitchen. He had already laid out everything she needed to cook breakfast and she cooed appreciatively.

"If you know everything I need, I imagine you could almost cook this yourself."

"Probably," Anakin said, taking his datapad and hooking it up to a larger monitor, "But I'm too busy watching the trial."

"Yes, how is that young hero doing?" she asked.

"I can't tell sometimes," Anakin replied. "The defense has been cross-examining him for three days. The guy asks some really weird questions but Obi-Wan always has an answer, so I guess he's doing okay."

"You know, after the queen's testimony the local news broadcasts haven't been hyping the story so much."

"Uh-huh," Anakin mumbled, starting to tune her out. He turned up the volume to hear better. A tiny part of his mind told him he was being rude, but after the air taxi incident he didn't ever want to be caught off guard again. Obi-Wan was still answering questions. They were talking about who shot first, and it took several minutes of listening to reverse-engineer the conversation before Anakin figured out they were talking about the space station that housed the droids. Obi-Wan had mentioned that he went there first before rescuing Padme and coming to Tatooine. In some ways, the proceedings were fascinating, both the prosecution and the defense asked a lot of questions, but Obi-Wan seemed to have an excellent memory for details and nothing, no even the oily Rhodian defense guy, seemed to bother him. It awed Anakin. He wondered if he would be that good when he grew up. He figured he must, because Obi-Wan was training him and Obi-Wan was the best there was.

_"Ah! You're a Jedi, then,"_ the defense asked. Obi-Wan calmly answered, _"Yes,"_ and Anakin nodded in emphatic agreement. He couldn't wait for Obi-Wan to come home so he could tell him all the Jedi things he'd done, the favors and smiles and the thank-yous and how _good_ it all felt. He wanted Obi-Want to be proud of him in that weird quiet way that used to frustrate him so much. Anakin was curious to see if, though Obi-Wan wouldn't show it on his face, if he showed it in the Force. The thought made Anakin happy all over and he couldn't wait to try it out.

Mrs. Hudson came in with breakfast, setting down a bowl for him and one for her. "What are they talking about now?"

_"Are you a Jedi now?"_

Obi-Wan's jaw clenched for the briefest of moments. Anakin frowned. "... I don't know..." he said slowly, his focus narrowing.

_"Yes or no, Mr. Kenobi."_

Why was he so interested in the Jedi? What did that have to do with Obi-Wan's testimony?

"_Are you, at this moment, a member of the Jedi Order?"_

Anakin put it together just as a blank-faced Obi-Wan said, _"I don't know."_

He slammed his hands on the table. "_Echuta baatu-baatu cheeska skocha sleemo poy beesga! Chuba doompa, dope-maskey kung! Coo ya maya stupa! Fierfek! Gaggal ak mursto! Koochoo! Skocha-cloonkee! Tah-koh tee womprat e'nachu!_"

A startled Mrs. Hudson jerked, sputtering her café before a horrified, "Language, Mr. Skywalker!"

Anakin turned to Mrs. Hudson, still furious. "That _sleemo_! He's trying to discredit Obi-Wan by saying that because he left the Order to train me that he's a bad person and shouldn't be listen to! He gave up everything for my sake! That _skoocha-kloonkey_ has no right to say that! Obi-Wan's the very best there is and he's making him out to be a bad guy. It's not true! It's not!" Hot tears spilled down his flushed face. "_Bantha poodoo!_" he spat, slamming a fist this time to the table.

He glared at the screen; the trial still going on but his anger stuffed his ears. All he could think of was that _karking_ Rhodian and wanting to stomp on his foot with his entire podracer. The trial camera was on the courtroom proper, there were so many heads turning back and forth to talk to each other that they looked like a swarm of insects. Mrs. Hudson was saying something, but he continued to glare at the defense, a deep frown on his face as he gripped his breakfast bowl harder and harder. He was _seething_. He banged his fist n the table again, rattling the silverware. Obi-Wan's face suddenly filled the screen, and Anakin struggled to calm down enough to listen to his brother, opening and closing his fists and taking deep breaths and holding it, telling his muscles to relax. He needed to hear Obi-Wan, and in order to do that he had to _calm down_.

_"... Feel free to cast doubt on my status, and even on my character, but you cannot cast doubt on my training. I was trained by the very best Masters in the Order, and that includes Master Yoda and Master Qui-Gon Jinn."_

"Really?" Anakin demanded at the view screen. "You're gonna praise that creepy old _troll_ after all he did to you and put him on the same level as Mister Qui-Gon?"

"Shh!" Mrs. Hudson hissed.

_"Frankly you are hard pressed to cast doubt on either of them, and their training reflects directly on me: So, in light of that, I can say in confidence that my master and I _were_ attacked on the space station..."_

Anakin frowned again, feeling like he missed something. He turned to see Mrs. Hudson staring at the screen, a hand to her chest as was her habit and half formed grin on her face. "Brilliant," she was muttering, "brilliant."

"What?" he demanded, "What'd I miss?"

"He's taking that Litigator to task," she said softly, not wanting to miss anything. "Oh, that young man's brilliant!"

Anakin still didn't understand it, but he trusted Mrs. Hudson, so when he turned back to the screen he cat-called, "_Bona nai kachu!_ You're in trouble now, _echuta sleemo!_"

Then the camera shook violently, the image becoming dithered and jumbled. The speakers spat out static interspersed with screams, and the screen settled to a smoky grey. It took several seconds for Anakin to realize it was smoke, and - there! - the faint glow of lightsabers. Anakin looked down to his datapad. It showed the same image: smoky white and dull lightsabers.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** One last gasp of inspiration. Image has known what would happen, conceptually, with the trial since the inception, and for once the span of a five pages or so went by (relatively) quickly. We know nothing about actual trials unless you count the random episode of Law and Order, Matlock, Perry Mason, and soap opera trials (if those even count...)

Obi adds another notch to his p0wn4ge belt, and Anakin was thrown in for kicks. Seriously, his story is basically done and now it's just tying up loose ends.

The positive feedback for how people are taking a second look at Dooku has been incredibly flattering. Researching him for this chapter has truly been an eye-opener. As a Sith there are other Sith that just overshadow him () and the same for being overshadowed as a Jedi (Yoda, Anakin, Obi-Wan) but he went from an exemplary star Jedi, part of the Old Guard, all the way to complete Sith. Yet he had certain ideals he held to in a desire to seek change. At the time of All But Name, here, he's frustrated and disillusioned but still on the side of Light, even if he's not quite light any more. Several have commented that he won't turn because he's choosing to get involved with Anakin and Obi-Wan. But remember, he's still on Coruscant and friends with Sidious. Where he ends up, Jedi or Sith, will ultimately be open to interpretation since we'll be ending the story before that could truly come into play. (Because we don't have a clue either...)

**Next chapter:** A bounty hunter.


	19. Chapter 19

**Part Nineteen**

Upon reflection, the bounty hunters seemed to have some skill and forethought. After the failed attempt in the air taxi, they had some experience with Jedi and had clearly taken their time researching what the quasi-religious order could do. The result was the use of high velocity plastic explosives ringed around the apex of the domed ceiling of the courtroom. This may have sounded simple, even juvenile, until one realized the hidden brilliance of the plan.

As the hunks of duracrete and live wires and insulation and drywall and broken ductwork and plumbing lines and other bits that Obi-Wan had learned about in his time of construction plummeted down, all four Jedi in the room reached up to the Force and caught the several tons of debris. The problem, the lynchpin of the trap, was that they had nowhere to put it. The courtroom was filled with people, and all the people were panicking; they were shrieking and running into one another and climbing over chairs and knocking each other aside. No one space in the room stayed clear for more than a few seconds as more and more people tried to leave the room. This forced the Jedi to simply hold all that debris over everyone's heads - perpetuating the panic and leaving the four fixed in one task - and more importantly - helpless to the attackers' next move.

Obi-Wan, holding his share of debris, kept his eyes open as he scanned the newly made hole, trying to spy what would happen next. He had one advantage the other three did not, he _did_ have a place to lower the destruction safely too. Being at the center of the room, he had more to hold, but he also was at the _center_ of the room, meaning he had immediate access to the only place that was regularly clear of people. He only had himself, the judge, the prosecution, and the defense. The other fifteen square meters of the area was blank of any obstruction - the better for the litigators to stage their questioning or present evidence. Strained with holding the rubble, he snapped his eyes to the others. Prosecution and defense were already up in the chairs and the aisles, looking for retreat. The judge was still at his podium, struggling to leave but too scared to get his legs moving.

Taking a deep breath, Obi-Wan moved his hand over to point at the judge and lift him up off of is podium, the man giving a petrified shriek and pierced at Obi-Wan nerves, but he held firm, guiding him through the air and to the nearest aisle before dropping him a few feet above the ground. That task settled, Obi-Wan reached up to the rubble over his head and started guiding it down as fast as he could to the now empty center.

The other three masters were still negotiating their rubble, trying to find someplace to set it down so they could concentrate on other matters.

"I'm the only one free, then," Obi-Wan muttered. "Just as they'd planned I suppose."

"Kenobi!" Dooku growled. "Take mine!"

And suddenly a lightsaber was spinning end over end through the dusty air, Obi-Wan reaching out to the Force to catch it. The blue blade ignited in his hand, and it was as if the last year had never happened in a way; the beam of light completed him as he hadn't been since he'd lost his old one in the generator complex, and he knew exactly what to do.

He leapt up the hundred meters to the edge of the ceiling, a hand reaching out and grabbing the edge of the hole and he easily hoisted himself up. There was no one to see, but sensing was a different matter entirely. He had spent a year working on his connection to the Living Force, and he now reaped the benefit of his efforts. With abandon he ran full tilt to the end of the narrow maintenance corridor he had found himself in, taking rights and lefts without any thought to why he was taking them, and bursting out into some kind of control center, a small room with banks of computers and control nexuses. One man stood in vaguely Mandelorian armor, a human tech of some kind helplessly in front of him, blaster digging into his neck.

"I suppose this is our first official meeting," Obi-Wan said dryly. "Good work on the air taxi, I suppose, and even this has some sign of skill, but as you've yet to kill me I'm forced to concede that you must not be very good."

"On the contrary," the bounty hunter said. "It all went according to plan."

Obi-Wan frowned, trying to understand. The Unifying Force was screaming in his head about darkness, more nonsensical things like, _He will birth the warriors_, and _Darkness will betray him,_ and _Be wary of the child_. He didn't understand any of it, save that this bounty hunter, like Anakin, had a touch of destiny in him. None of that helped him know why his death wasn't on the agenda.

"Who are you working for?" he asked, mentally shoving the confusion aside and looking instead at the hostage, biding time until the other Jedi joined him. "I doubt it's the Litigators, they have a much more subtle reputation. What do your employer gain with having me dead?"

"Pretty egotistical for a Jedi," the Mandalorean bounty hunter said, "Thinking you're the target."

Insight finally struck. "You wanted a mistrial," Obi-Wan accused.

"Just business, you understand," the bounty hunter said. "Now, I have an exit to make and credits to collect."

"You're not going to escape," Obi-Wan said.

"I have a hostage," the bounty hunter answered, "Just what do you think is going to happen?"

"Just this," Obi-Wan reply, reaching out to the Force and yanking the blaster out of the would-be assassin's hand, bringing it to his own. The tech cried out and managed to wrench himself away from the bounty hunter, running away to safety. The Mandelorean lifted an arm, weapon readying, and a stream of fire erupted in the painfully small control room. Obi-Wan ducked backwards, spinning as he went and thrusting his leg out, tapping at the bounty hunter's shins with enough force to startle the man, and Obi-Wan used the distraction to kick his leg up, into the man's arm and knocking the flamethrower straight up, the fire igniting delicate wiring and control modules, forcing the bounty hunter to turn it off lest he catch himself in an explosion.

Obi-Wan flipped to his feet and swung his borrowed lightsaber, but the bounty hunter backed away, instead turning and running. Obi-Wan pursued, wondering what was taking Master Yoda and the others so long. The narrow quarters did not suite either fighter, Obi-Wan's strength was Form IV and it depended on being able to spin on all three axis of rotation. He did not want to fight that way in here, the memories of his master reminded him all too well that he had a Padawan of his own and he needed to go home to, and he refused to die here. Obi-Wan realized he would need to consider a different form when this was over. The bounty hunter, too, did not seem to be equipped for such close quarters, his arsenal was to explosive to risk firing anything.

Taking seemingly random lefts and rights, the Mandelorean suddenly dropped through an access way. Obi-Wan blindly followed suit and realized too late what a bad idea that was. He could see the bounty hunter doing something to the control console on one of his wrists and as soon as he landed he was electrocuted. The bounty hunter had a contingency plan, apparently, and had set the trap well before hand. His jetpack ignited and he hovered safely up in the air as the metal panels of the floor conducted electricity generated from a circle of devices the bounty hunter had planted.

Everything was on fire, Obi-Wan knew he was screaming, and he couldn't even _think_, everything _burned_ and his entire body was jerking back and forth. He was no good like this, not to anybody, and especially not to Anakin. He would never get back to the boy if he couldn't solve something as simple as this and he knew somehow that he had been in worse scrapes than this and he _had to do something_!

And arm managed to swing out and down, and somehow Obi-Wan had managed to slice Dooku's lightsaber through one of the small generators. His body continued to jerk and spasm, and Obi-Wan struggled to retain any kind of control over his body. Another swing almost missed, but he was able to destroy another of the devices, and the third went down in the next. That gave him much more control, and he was able to take out the last two in one swing.

The Mandelorean bounty hunter had not wasted time waiting to see what he would do, the man was several hundred meters up in the air, reaching a higher roofline. Obi-Wan was good, but not _that_ good, but he ran towards the edge of the platform he was on, planning a route up the sheer vertical of the building, knowing that he would not be fast enough but trying anyway.

"Kenobi!"

His head jerked to he side and there was Dooku, driving and air-car confiscated from somewhere, and Obi-Wan leapt without a thought up and into the chasse. "There!" he said, pointing to the roofline he had seen the bounty hunter disappear over. "If we hurry we can catch him!"

Dooku gave him an odd look but complied, engaging the thrusters and climbing altitude until they crested the roof.

Obi-Wan's body was in a tight knot. He had never felt like this before and yet he knew that this was the Living Force that had so consumed his master. Every detail, every change of motion, every blinking light and traffic horn was assaulting his senses, he was overwhelmed with input, and yet he knew exactly what he was looking for, the distinctive flare of that jetpack, a trail of smoke a burst of ignited fuel...

There!

"There!" he shouted, pointing. Dooku gunned the engine and they sped off northeast to that pinprick of life. The bounty hunter had an extraordinary lead on them, that pack was more powerful than Obi-Wan had estimated but no match for the larger engine of an air-car. They gained on him in minutes and Obi-Wan leapt out of the chasse when the Force told him to, deaf to Dooku's voice and landed in a tight roll on a roof-landing pad. The Mandelorean was headed for an oddly shaped space transport, and Obi-Wan begged the Force for speed and ran towards him full tilt. The bounty hunter turned and fire with a blaster, but Obi-Wan blocked it without any kind of thought, legs pumping as he gained ground. He skidded to a halt at the base of the onramp, the bounty hunter on its apex.

"I told you," Obi-Wan said, suddenly aware he was panting, "You're not going to escape."

"You're pretty good for a Jedi-reject," the bounty hunter said, and it was a testament to how deep Obi-Wan was drinking of the Force that the jibe didn't even register in his mind. "But," he added, in an odd mockup of Obi-Wan's voice, "as you've yet to capture me I'm forced to concede that you must not be very good."

_"Obi-Wan! Run!"_

Obi-Wan managed only two steps back before one of the defense blasters of the ship fired, heavy ordinance exploding under his feet and sending Obi-Wan flying. Something struck his head and stars burst in front of his vision as pain flared along his arm and hip. He might have been rolling, he wasn't sure. There were jumbled sensations of being carried, maybe someone calling his name, or was he still rolling from the concussive blast?

Then came the darkness.

* * *

The next thing he was fully aware of was staring up at his master's face. And, somehow, one little piece made sense.

"This... is real, isn't it? It's... always been real."

_"So you've finally realized it, have you? Anakin was a bit quicker; but then he doesn't have preconceived notions about ghosts."_

Everything felt disjointed. Hadn't he been rolling across a rooftop? Was that before or after he was chasing a Mandelorian with a jetpack? The sensation of the swell of the Living Force filtered through his mind, out of synch, and Obi-Wan groaned at the memory. "Qui-Gon..." he moaned. "How on earth do you keep everything straight when you're like that?"

The blue-tinged face gave a warm smile. _"You simply need practice, Obi-Wan. The key to it is focus, and yours is one of the best."_ The image smiled again, reaching down to run his fingers through Obi-Wan's tousled hair, but he felt no sensation. _"You gave my master quite a fright. Padme, too. She's already planning on yelling at you when she sees you."_

"... Master," Obi-Wan said mind skittering from one thought to the next, "I'm sorry... I failed you last year and..."

_"Shh, shh, here and now Padawan mine. You forget what I said earlier it seems, and so I will repeat: 'You are strong and wise, Obi-Wan, and I am very proud of you. _Very_ proud of you.' And, I might add, you seem to make me more proud with every day that passes."_

That made no sense whatsoever. Obi-Wan shook his head in denial, trying to refute the claim, but Qui-Gon just kept smiling as he put a finger to the former Jedi's lips, begging his quiet.

_"Just because you don't realize it yet doesn't mean it isn't true; and you will see it with time. Rest, now. Your body needs it."_

Obi-Wan didn't completely understand that, either, but he had the sense of time passing, and when he next opened his eyes he felt significantly more drugged. And stiff. And sore.

And distinctly like he was in a lot of trouble given the way that Master Dooku and Padme were staring down at him. Why were they staring down? He was in a medical cot. ... Why? Then memories of the bounty hunter filled his mind and he remembered the ship's defense blasters and the explosion. "... Oh dear," he muttered.

For the next two hours Padme gave Obi-Wan one or two pieces of her mind; generally revolving around the ideas of "waiting for back up," "running off into danger," "not thinking about Anakin," "the idiocy of going one-on-one against a spaceship," and other minor details. Obi-Wan took it with appropriate grace and humiliation, eyes downcast, until Padme finally took a breath and he quickly interjected,

"Would you have done any differently, Your Majesty?" which sent her stomping off and muttering creative phrases under her breath. Panaka bowed as he left, a brief grin on his face at the conquering of his queen, but said nothing as he trailed after her, diligent in his duty.

He turned to the reticent Dooku. "How long have I been out?"

"Thirty-six hours."

"I see. Nothing serious, I suppose, given such a short time."

"A broken arm and a dislocated hip in conjunction with your various contusions."

Obi-Wan nodded, rubbing his face. There was stubble there. He needed to shave. "The bounty hunter?"

"Escaped."

Obi-Wan nodded again. "Qui-Gon was right. I need more training," he murmured to himself.

Dooku raised an eyebrow, a question clearly written on his face. Obi-Wan tried to shrug it off, still uncomfortable with the very idea - still trying to reconcile that it wasn't all just a _dream_, let alone talking about it. He decided to bypass it entirely. "I've never had much connection to the Living Force, even with Qui-Gon as my master. I've been working for the last year to be more open to it, and I suppose the work has paid off a little, given that every reaction I had during that chase was a result of the Living Force." Obi-Wan offered a good-natured grin. "Given that I allowed myself to be electrocuted and blown up I obviously need more practice." But Qui-Gon had given him a hint, and he had an idea on how to implement it. If he needed work on his focus... and a new saber style... Form III perhaps...

"You seem to have very interesting standards of acceptability," Dooku said.

Obi-Wan raised his own eyebrow in question, but Dooku said no more, preferring to look at him intently. The attention made Obi-Wan uncomfortable, and he shifted in his cot before looking away, embarrassed; he tried to change the subject. "The bounty hunter said his goal was to declare a mistrial. Has that happened?"

"Two hours ago," Dooku said, a deep, disapproving frown on his face. "Her Majesty was... very vocal in her opinion of the matter."

"And she calls _me_ to task for acting rashly," Obi-Wan mumbled, rubbing the stubble around his chin. "It was inevitable, I suppose," he said to Dooku. "I shall have to withhold my enthusiasm until the next trial, when we can all go through this again."

"Assuming you are even called to the stand and your testimony is not discounted," Dooku said, some faint hint of disdain in his voice. Obi-Wan frowned again. The man was always so reticent, to see even that small fraction of emotion was significant. Was he invested in the outcome of the trial? Why? Some sense of justice to his old Padawan?

_"Do not worry for his path,"_ Qui-Gon's voice said softly, startling the former Jedi. _"His is one he needs to decide for himself. I think you'll find that he will surprise you. Rest, Obi-Wan. You've a long flight back to Naboo."_

The command seemed to remind him how tired he was, and he sank back into the sheets. "Yes," he murmured. "I can finally go _home_..."

Home to Naboo...

Home to Anakin...

Home to his fami...

He slept.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** It took forever. Is it really worth saying anymore?

We pulled a little bit here and there for the fight. Jango Fett was the obvious (?) choice, Sidious having hired him to get a mistrial and perpetuate the decay of the Republic. There was the air taxi fight, the fight with Jango and Mace, and... something else from the movie that I can't quite remember. Obi-Wan continues to p0wn people, even if Jango won in the end he'll be that much more nervous about facing a Jedi. And he finally realized that Qui-Gon's been talking to him for the entire fic. Took him long enough. Not much to say for this.

**Next Chapter:** An epilogue


	20. Chapter 20

**Epilogue**

Anakin was trying _really_ hard not to bounce from foot to foot as he waited in the Royal Hanger. Mrs. Hudson was by his side, his required guardian since it seemed people didn't like kids wandering around the hanger and asking about the mechanics of their ships and power-to-output ratios and how to squeeze out better numbers. But that was fine, since one of the transports coming into the busier and busier hanger would hold Obi-Wan.

Really, that's all he wanted.

Obi-Wan always kept calm and in control and Anakin felt anything but in that moment. He'd been waiting _months_ for this, gotten into more detentions at school than he'd like for various distracted ponderings, to say nothing of the fright he put Mrs. Hudson, Kohse the administration of his school and the rumors flying around the planet after he recorded the attack on Padme and Obi-Wan in the airtaxi. After all of that, Anakin thought he deserved to be anxious. But if Obi-Wan never showed anxiety than Anakin wouldn't either.

...It was still hard to keep still.

At last, a mirrored Nubian ship arrived and Anakin just _knew_ this was it. He ran forward to it, ignoring Mrs. Hudson's indignant yelp to get back to her side. The ship seemed to take forever to get through shut down operations before - at last - the ramp was lowered.

Padme was the first to exit, with Panaka and her security staff. She was quickly swarmed by reporters and Anakin was shuffled aside. He was okay with that. He didn't particularly _like_ getting sidelined, but it was okay. Because he wanted Padme to see him as a _man_, a man she could marry, so it was probably for the best that she didn't see him while he was still a little kid. He still saw her, even from a distance, and to see her gracefully float with all those layers of fabric and furs, present a blank face to all reporters and answer questions calmly and clearly as Panaka cleared a way for her, reassured Anakin that she really _was_ all right. He knew that Obi-Wan had saved her and he was ever so grateful for that, but a part of him had wondered, especially since he hadn't been able to track them after they landed. Seeing her fine just loosened something that had been around his heart ever since the trial had started.

The crowd followed Padme, but Anakin stayed behind, Mrs. Hudson once more at his shoulder with a firmer grip this time.

Not that it mattered. Anakin could sense Obi-Wan's approach and looked up just as his brother started down the ramp.

Frankly, there was no way Mrs. Hudson could have held him. He ran right up to his brother, another tightness in his heart loosening, as he jumped up to Obi-Wan's outspread arms.

"Obi-Wan!"

His normally stoic brother actually laughed, swinging Anakin with the momentum of his jump into a circle before crushing him into a close hug. "Anakin," he smiled. "I've missed you too."

And the bond that Anakin had barely felt as more than the tiniest of threads with Obi-Wan so far away, finally bounced back to being full with feeling and senses.

Anakin was so full of things he wanted to say, the words clogged in his throat so he just snuggled into the tight hug.

"Well, it seems that the young hero is back," Mrs. Hudson greeted. "I must say, this little brother of yours can be quite a handful."

"Nothing troublesome, I hope?" Obi-Wan asked, pulling an arm away from Anakin long enough to grab his bag that had been dropped to the ramp.

"No, no," their landlord replied. "Nothing bad. Just a handful."

"Well, I don't know about either of you, but I'd just like to be home right about now."

"I've got a taxi waiting," Mrs. Hudson said kindly.

Obi-Wan smiled at her. "You can take it if you'd like, milady, but I would like to walk. Sitting in ships tends to cramp one's legs, after all."

Mrs. Hudson smiled back at them. "I expect you back by sunset," she said sternly. "I have a nice 'Welcome Home' feast going that young Anakin was quite helpful with."

Obi-Wan chuckled. "I'm sure."

Mrs. Hudson went on her way and Anakin hugged his brother tightly as he swore he would both after watching the airtaxi explode and after watching the courtroom collapse.

Obi-Wan looped his bag around his arm before supporting Anakin's weight again and started walking.

Anakin eventually loosened his grip a bit and looked up to his brother. Words were still clogged in his throat, but the first to burst through wasn't what he expected.

"You're growing a beard?"

Obi-Wan laughed, once again looking far more comfortable than the stoicism he lived by for the past year. "Yes, I think it will end up being necessary. It seems I might have made the news a few times during the trial."

Anakin did _not_ blush. And he did _not_ remember the recordings he'd made and showed to Kohse, Mrs. Hudson, Mayuntha and anyone else who could help him make sure Obi-Wan had been alright.

"On the transport home, I can't tell you how many times some came up and asked if I was the Jedi that now lived on Naboo. I believe a change of appearance will grant me a bit of privacy again."

Since Anakin was _not_ blushing, he smiled. "I like it!" he proclaimed. "It's kinda like Mister Qui-Gon."

Instead of stiffening, and looking away or giving a broken grin, Obi-Wan seemed to consider, freeing a hand to run over his more-than-stubble-less-than-beard. "While not a bad idea, I think I'd prefer a bit fuller beard than that line around the jaw that my Master had, don't you think?"

Anakin narrowed his gaze, trying to picture it. "I dunno. Won't that be too hairy?"

And Obi-Wan laughed _again_. "Perhaps. We'll wait and see."

Anakin nodded. Now that words were working, he had a lot more to say.

"I need you to explain meditation to me _again_," Anakin complained. "I've been doing _something_ wrong. Last week, after meditating, I kept hearing people's thoughts all through school! Horace is _really_ mean with what he thinks and I landed in detention again when I reacted to him thinking cruel things about one of our classmates and just yesterday! Yesterday after I finished meditation I couldn't focus on _anything_ because I could still see the Force kinda flowing around everyone and it kept distracting me. I was supposed to be in detention today for that, but the teachers understood that you were coming home today and I gotta stay after tomorrow because of that. That doesn't even get _into_-"

He was cut off by Obi-Wan bringing a finger to his lips. "Hush, Anakin. Before we get into details, don't worry too much. I think you've been working so hard on opening up to the Force that you haven't been looking at control. This is something I need to work on as well. We can brainstorm later. Now." Despite all the joy at being home Anakin _knew_ Obi-Wan was feeling, his brother put on a stern voice and a blank face. "What's this about you getting into detention? _Again_?"

Anakin squirmed horribly.

Apparently Obi-Wan could still be firm even when he _had_ loosened up a bit.

* * *

Dooku approached the apartment quietly. It was full evening when he had finally arrived on the planet and he had to firmly squash all temptation to go to where his first and best Padawan had finally fallen. For now, he had come to complete an objective that he'd been striving towards for weeks now, to no avail.

He would admit to some anxiety on his reception. He was, after all, unannounced and arriving right at the dinner hour, something many people found quite rude, but he didn't have as much time as he would have preferred. To say nothing of the fact that the Jedi had not treated these two well and he wanted to rectify that. The question was whether or not they'd take it as such.

Or perhaps, he admitted in the tiniest corner of his oft-betrayed heart, he wasn't here to right a wrong so much as to connect to something he had lost and wanted back, despite the risk.

At least he wasn't arriving empty handed. When he noticed that it was the dinner hour, he had stopped off at a bakery and gotten a sweetcake that Qui-Gon had often enjoyed, even when he wasn't supposed to. And there was what he had brought with him specifically, but that would come later.

He rang the chime and waited calmly, the picture of Jedi professionalism, despite the travel bag under his cloak and the still-warm and delicious-smelling cake he held in front of him.

The door was opened by a sandy-haired child with... a braid.

Kenobi had kept the tradition.

A Jedi through and through.

The child looked up and up to Dooku, before rudely pointing. "Hey! I saw you at the trial!"

"Anakin! Manners!" was the sharp reprimand before young Kenobi himself came into view, clearly in the process of cooking.

The child looked down sheepishly before grinning unrepentantly back at Kenobi. Still, the child turned and bowed more politely. "Welcome, Master Jedi," he said with just the slightest tinges of cheekiness in his voice.

By the Force, it was a mini-Qui-Gon.

It was _work_ to stop from grinning nostalgically.

"Come on in," Kenobi bowed. "You'll pardon the mess, of course. We didn't know you were coming."

"I am afraid I didn't have the chance to call ahead," Dooku replied, coming in. "I am en route to my next mission and I thought I'd stop by."

"You'll at least stay long enough to join us for dinner?" Kenobi asked politely.

"No, I-" and to Dooku's horror, his stomach rumbled.

"Yep," the child grinned. "He's staying for dinner."

Young Skywalker efficiently took Dooku's cloak and bag, setting them in a nearby closet and taking the sweetcake and bringing it to the small kitchen before sitting him down in the small family room with a cup of tea. "We're almost ready," Anakin said. "Just give us a minute."

Dooku nodded, sipping the strong dark tea that, if he was not mistaken, was one of Qui-Gon's favorite blends. Normally, Dooku didn't like to be hustled about so, but he was the guest so he played the part. The family room was clearly where a lot of time was spent. In the corner were meditation mats, clearly set up for later use, as well as pillows and flimsy objects for beginning levitation exercises. (The boy was already doing levitation exercises? After only a year? How quickly was he catching up to his agemates at the Temple?) Bits of machinery were all about in various stages of tinkering, young Skywalker's no doubt. But what drew Dooku's eye the most was a small set of shelves on one of the walls. He stood with his tea and walked over. There was Qui-Gon's lightsaber, carefully mounted, and shining under a small light, encircled by the leaves of a plant. Next to the plant and lightsaber was a holo of his old Padawan, clearly taken when he wasn't looking, sitting serenely in a garden with a fuzzy pathetic life-form snuggling as close as it could.

The old master's eyes watered in spite of his will.

"_Anakin_! Not so high, you'll burn the-"

There was a loud crash in the kitchen.

Dooku went to the source of the sound to find Obi-Wan holding Anakin up off the ground and backing away from the steaming up-ended pot of what appeared to be some sort of stock-soup.

Not aware of his presence, Obi-Wan held Anakin close before letting out a breath. "I knew that I was _hopeless_ in the kitchen when Qui-Gon started teaching me to cook, but I don't think I was _quite_ that bad."

"But I wanted to _help_," Anakin shot back, his face flaming with embarrassment.

The picture was far too familiar of one from when _he_ had started teaching Qui-Gon how to cook.

Reaching out with the Force, Dooku took the pot and pulled some of the stock back into it. "It's still salvageable," he said, stepping forward. "If you don't mind cleaning up and setting the table, I think I can save the soup."

"I... er..."

Clearly, Obi-Wan wasn't expecting the revered saber-master Dooku to do something as mundane as cooking. Dooku ignored the shock and discomfort, rolled up his sleeves, and brought the pot to the sink to fill with some water and checked the fridge for some cooking wine to start a reduction.

"Umm..."

Dooku turned. "Do you have some salt and gingobi leaves? It should help."

Anakin was the first to get his head on straight. "Uh, yeah. Gimme a sec." The child wiggled out of Obi-Wan's grip and headed for a small pantry.

The old master turned to his grandpadawan. He raised an eyebrow in a manner he hadn't since training Qui-Gon. "The mess?"

"Ah! Yes, er, I'll get right on that."

Dooku always did enjoy surprises up his sleeves.

* * *

Dinner had ended up being extremely pleasant. Obi-Wan hadn't expected Dooku to know how to cook. But looking back, Qui-Gon had to have learned somewhere and Jedi out in the field had to at least have the basics for foraging food and worst-case scenarios.

Obi-Wan also hadn't expected Dooku to regale them with stories of Qui-Gon's apprenticeship. Really, he had no idea his Master had been as hopeless as he had been when he had started his apprenticeship.

While the whole experience was surreal to the extreme, Obi-Wan couldn't quite deny that the Force seemed to swirl happily around them, primarily because Anakin's presence had grown so bright while he'd been on Coruscant. And if Anakin wasn't so shrouded in Darkness, perhaps it was for the best that he hadn't been brought to the Temple.

It was nice to laugh together and share stories.

Obi-Wan hadn't really realized how much he missed it. This was how dinners usually went with Qui-Gon. Yet due to his grief, the last year had been painfully empty of such relaxation and fun.

He couldn't quite help but wonder what had brought about the change.

_It still approaches. Protect the child, else beware the child_.

Obi-Wan filed that feeling away to meditate on later. The here and now needed his attention.

"Master Dooku," he started, after the latest round of chuckles died down. "What brings you to our humble abode?"

Dooku's face returned to seriousness in an instant, but there was a distinct twinkle in his eye that was far too reminiscent of Qui-Gon.

"I suppose now is as good a time as any." He stood and retrieved his bag from their small coat closet and Obi-Wan nudged Anakin. They two of them cleared the plates before joining Dooku in the family room.

Dooku was sitting, back straight in the armchair Obi-Wan usually claimed, so he sat with Anakin on the couch.

They sat for a moment, Dooku seeming to reach for calm before starting. "Since I have come to know of your circumstances, I have been trying to secure aide for you, should you ever need it."

Anakin just blinked, but Obi-Wan sat back as the implications of that one statement washed over him. "But... I never asked... The Council..." really, was forming sentences so difficult this evening?

Dooku looked aside, clearly wrestling with irritation and anger that slowly diluted into the Force. "At this point, after all the harm the Jedi have indirectly caused the two of you, I think either of you returning to the Temple might do more harm than good, but then, as far as I'm concerned, the rightful place for the two of you has been the Temple from the start." Dooku let out a long breath. "The past cannot be altered. But I _can_ rectify some wrongs that have been done."

Obi-Wan tried to wrestle control of the situation. "Please, Master Dooku, you needn't go through the bother of-"

Anakin reached up and swatted him on the head.

"_Anakin_!"

But his little Padawan crossed his arms and scowled up at him. "He's offering _help_, Obi-Wan. Not charity. You told me to never be so proud as to not accept help."

Caught by his own words Obi-Wan could only stutter.

Dooku gave a dry chuckle. "Master and Padawan always learn from each other," he muttered. "For starters, whenever a Jedi takes on a new Padawan, there are certain classes and materials that are needed. Whether you consider this charity or not, you _will_ need these, Obi-Wan."

What could Obi-Wan do, but bow to the fate before him?

"_You'll thank him for this, Padawan mine. Maybe not now, but you will._"

Beside him, Anakin nodded emphatic agreement with Qui-Gon.

Obi-Wan would have loved to know how he got outnumbered so fast.

Dooku continued, "These are only basics." He put two cubes down on the coffee table.

"_Holocrons_? Master Dooku, this is..."

"What every starting master needs," Dooku finished. He pointed to the green one. "Basics on Force techniques, meditation, levitation." He pointed to the blue. "Lightsaber forms. A holocron I made years ago. I have updated it and it will give you instructions on any form you need. Young Anakin likely won't stay in Shii-Cho forever."

"_Wizard_!" Anakin exclaimed, picking up the blue cube. "How do you use it?"

"Obi-Wan will explain later," Dooku replied, digging into his bag again. "I understand you're saving to get to Illum some day. But that will be years in the making. In the meantime..."

"Lightsabers! Oh this is so wizard!"

"Not lightsabers, Anakin," Obi-Wan said quietly, holding the cylinders in his hand. "_Training_ sabers. These won't cause any harm beyond a slight burn, even at maximum settings." He flicked the switches on both. Orange and yellow, the traditional colors of training sabers. "We're going to have to find somewhere more private to practice. We don't want the general populace begging for lessons."

"Yeah, fine, whatever, I can't _wait_ for tomorrow morning! A real lightsaber in my hands! Maybe now I can get some of the grips right!"

Dooku was smiling gently, eyes seeming lost in memory before he blinked, returned to his serious face, and pulled out one more item from his bag.

"That communicator is a direct line to me. Even if I am undercover, I will respond as soon as I am able." He locked eyes with Obi-Wan. "If you ever need assistance, I will come. A Jedi is always there for a fellow Jedi and as such, I will be there for you."

Obi-Wan nodded softly, unable to break eye contact.

Dooku stood. "Your friends, Padawans Eerin and Muln both insist you send word to them if you need any help and I am not immediately available. When you need the next holocron on Force techniques, Padawan Eerin insists you contact her immediately so that she can get it for you."

"I... I..."

This was all so much. He had been floundering for a year with _nothing_ and now Dooku wasn't just giving him something small but...

Anakin walked over and hugged Dooku. "Thanks, Grandpa."

Dooku looked down, somewhere between affronted and bemused. "Grandpa?"

Obi-Wan had no other recourse but to laugh.

**Owari**

* * *

**Author's Note**: And thus, we reach the end. Although this was originally planned as just the end of Obi-Wan's arc and then we'd time-jump to have Anakin's arc, which involved getting shot down by Padme and resolving his issues with the fact that he wants to be a Jedi but can't stand the Jedi who rejected him and Obi-Wan. Dooku was a huge question mark because while he's in a better place by being with Obi and Ani (in our opinion), he's still friends with Palpatine and such. We couldn't decide if Dooku would still turn or not, and if he did, how much influence would he truly have over Anakin, would Dooku be the one to try and turn Anakin instead of Palpatine... etc, etc. It was such a mess we've thrown our hands up in defeat and called it quits here.

This isn't to say we've finished exploring Dooku. We're finishing up a story now called Coalesced Matter that's a very interesting Dooku/Obi/Ani story. Our beta is already working on the first couple of chapters. We'll see.

It's been an interesting ride and we're glad everyone's enjoyed this story. The two of us look at this and feel there is an ethereal quality that's missing that was there in spades for Simple Steps. Meh. Stories are hit-or-miss for us. Some stories we've written, we've hit what we wanted. Others are a miss. This was a miss, but it still was a deent story.

Many thanks to all of you for sticking around. We're glad you've been enjoying. ^_^


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